#magda was barely holding on here already

[magdasabs]

their English home 🥹🥹

[woso-dreamzzz]

Jessie's Girl II

Jessie Fleming x Hardersson!Reader

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Talia meets Jessie

You weren't the biggest fan of exhibition matches, especially when they were in a different country.

The time difference between Spain and Canada was about six hours and you were exhausted when the plane finally landed. It was a quick turn around between the plane ride to the match, barely a day so you had to get over your jet lag quickly.

But, still Barcelona was Barcelona and you won the match by a large margin, a combination of Talia up front and you between the sticks.

You shake the hands of the opposing players before making your way over to the stands.

You'd spotted her earlier, even before she'd appeared on the big screen.

You handed over your shirt.

Former Canada captain, Jessie Fleming take it from you.

She smiles at you, the same smile from your childhood. She hugs you too, the same hug from your childhood as well.

"Hey, superstar," She jokes and you grin.

"Hi, Jessie."

She pulls on your Barcelona shirt. In your time on the Sweden team, you haven't played against Canada yet but you promised Jessie a shirt of yours when you were younger.

You hope a Barcelona one will tie her over until you can give her your Sweden one.

"You looked good out there," She says," Very sure of yourself."

"Well," You say, a light dusting of pink over your cheeks," I am a professional." You can't stop smiling at her. "What are you even doing here?"

"Well." She's leaning on the barrier as your teammates mill around signing things. "When I heard Barcelona were coming to town, I couldn't just stay away. Besides, your mothers told me some interesting news."

Your brow furrows in confusion, a little crinkle appearing between them. "What news?"

"How is your love life going?"

Your cheeks flush deeply and your eyes dart to Natalia, who is signing some little boy's shirt.

"Do you want to meet her?"

You drag her over quickly, pulling Talia by the hand. You don't know why you're so nervous. It's just Jessie but she was important to you when you were younger and you want her to impressed with your choices.

You really want her to like Talia.

"This is my girlfriend," You say," Natalia."

Jessie holds out her hand.

Talia shakes it.

"So," Jessie says," You're the one that stole her from me."

"What?"

You groan loudly and contemplate giving yourself a concussion just to get out of this interaction. "Please stop."

"No," Talia says, eyes darting between you and Jessie," What's going on? I don't get it."

Jessie laughs. "When she was younger-"

"Must you tell everyone this? I was a kid!"

"-She had a crush on me. Flowers. Opening doors. Naps on the bus. The whole works."

Talia turns to look at you. "Where are my flowers? How are you more smooth as a kid than you are now?"

Jessie's face lights up in delight and that concussion is looking more and more tempting.

"I think there's still videos up from when she was younger. She was such a little sweetheart."

Talia pokes you teasingly in the shoulder. "What happened, huh? All smooth and suave as a kid and then you've turned into this?"

You flash her a grin. "But I thought you like me all oblivious?"

Talia's hand brushes over your shoulder fondly. "I do," She says," But I just think if we'd met as kids then we wouldn't have had to do all this dancing around. Who knows, we might have already been married by now?"

"You'd have to get the blessing of my mothers first."

Talia already has both Pernille and Magda's blessing. Not that you know that. She's got their blessing. She's got a ring.

It would look perfect on your finger.

But now's not the right time, not when you've still got a season to finish.

Soon though.

As soon as possible.

"Good luck with that," Jessie says but the spark in her eyes tells Talia all that she needs to know," Magda's a tough cookie to crack."

"Morsa's a sweetheart really," You say," She just likes to pretend she's tough." You shiver a little, the wind blowing against your shirtless skin.

"Go in and change," Talia says," You're freezing."

"But-"

"Go on," Jessie insists," We'll talk some other time."

You don't really want to go, that much is obvious but you're shivering like a wet cat so you go in to get some warm clothes on.

Jessie turns to Natalia.

"Magda told me," She says," That you're planning to propose."

"Yes. I am."

"Good. Pernille and Magda hold you in high regard."

Talia knew that about Pernille. Magda, less so. "They do?"

Jessie nods. "They think you're very well suited to each other."

"Thank you."

As Talia moves to join you in the locker room, she grins to herself.

Magda thinks she's well suited to you. Magda holds her in high regard.

Talia's never going to let her live it down

[faellain]

The Accidental Baby Trap Incident

Summary: About four years after the events of First Class, Erik arrives at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters with two little twins who he didn't know existed. Thinking he doesn't know what to do, he runs to Charles, not knowing the state his old friend is in.

Snippet 1

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erik's chest is heaving as he arrives at the door step almost stumbling to the already in need of a clean mansion. he frowns. charles had been so fastidious about keeping the place clean once they arrived. perhaps he wasn't home.

one of the children, the whitish-silver haired one- oh, yes, pietro that was it, tugs on his sleeve, "is this an orphanage?" the names of these children still didn't seem real to him. everything felt like a nightmare.

"it's a school," he corrects, "an old friend of mind runs it."

"is it a boarding school?" the girl (wanda, he reminds himself, wanda. his daughter. not just a girl. not just any child.) asks.

"of a sort," he replies and knocks again, louder this time, tempted to just throw open the door.

pietro stamps his foot, "you're gonna leave us here aren't you?" before erik can respond, his young son slams his heel on erik's toes, "fucker!"

erik hisses, "pietro-"

"peter. i don't like pietro. it's a stupid name!"

pietro had been the name he picked out when magda had once teased the idea of having children. it had been his grandfather's name. wanda was the once she had chosen, a name she had always been fond of since she was a girl. now those children were real and one was yelling at him.

erik begins to raise his voice again when the door cracks open. from the crack, he sees hank's eyes and nose peak out. a second later, he's opened the door a bit more, keeping his body between the inside and erik.

"what are you doing here?" he snaps, "who are they?"

"why aren't you blue?" erik asks, genuinely, "how did you reverse-?"

"i'm asking the questions," hank growls and erik watches a ripple of blue skin and yellow eyes appear. ah. not so reversed then.

"i need to see charles," erik explains, "to talk about them."

"there's no school. charles closed it. he can't help them," hank replies, "go somewhere else."

"hank, they're my children."

hank blinks in surprise and looks at the two of them, pietro trying desperately to tug away from his father's hold on his wrist while wanda stands next to him with her chin high. he sighs, "what do you expect charles to do?"

"i- i don't know," he admits, hating the glare pietro gave him at the words, "their mother is gone. i don't know how to raise children. i didn't know where else to go."

hanks shakes his head, "charles won't be of any help."

At that exact moment, pietro decides to vibrate his hand so fast, he burns erik's palm causing him to hiss and let go. normally, he's prepared for this trick. it's one of his son's favorites . being caught up in the conversation with hank took just enough attention away from erik to not prepare himself for the burn.

his son is about to bolt when wanda placidly says, "i've got him."

with a single lift of her hand, pietro freezes and falls face first in the grass, wriggling there like an earthworm. wanda was in an agreeable mood then. that was good. hank stared at them with a slightly stunned expression. erik gave him a withering look.

finally, he steps aside, "you're not gonna like what you see." a pit of dread grows in erik's stomach as he picks up pietro like an american football to carry him inside.

american football... he remembers better days. he remembers sean and alex always teasing him for calling it that. for calling "soccer" any number of colorful variants of football: football, piłka nożna, fussball. it was almost a game in it of itself. this place had far too many tainted memories.

"is he in his study?" he asks.

"he's barely gone in there in over a year. he's probably in his bedroom."

"is he asleep? it's two in the afternoon." charles only slept in when he was hungover. and it was tuesday.

"i don't know," hank shrugs, activating no small amount of annoyance.

"well if he isn't alseep, then he would know i'm here by now. he probably needs help," erik tries not to wince, memories of the beach still fresh as he recalls pulling the bullet out of charles' spine, "go fetch him."

hank gives him a tired glance that's partially pity and partially screaming, i'm not a butler.

"hank?" he hears the call from upstairs, "is someone here?"

hank winces as erik immediately bounds up the stairs with only a terse 'wait' to his children. both promptly ignore him, the boy zipping to catch up and the girl bounding along as best she could. he sighs, rushing after them. maybe he can bribe them with cookies he bought. they're just from the grocery store bakery, but kids hardly cared about such things.

erik flings open charles' door, feeling like a man possessed. charles was so close. he could fix this— or at least help erik. this man adored children far more than he ever could. not to mention, his old friend lived a much safer life. he could only go so long ignoring contacts from azazel, emma, and mystique before they came to investigate his sudden no-contact. charles always had answers. charles had started a school. charles—

looks like a mess.

the charles of erik's mind, when not the nightmare of a man in pain on a beach, was polished and coiffed to perfection. his fluffy hair was always styled, always dressed to the casual nines (or just the nines), oceanic blue eyes brightened by his clothes, two perfect ruddy lips that dipped into a heart shape at the top.

this was not the charles of his mind. before him stands a haggard man, eyes dull, lips pale, wearing nothing more than dirty sweats and a dirtier robe. he smells, reeks even. days old sweat, vomit, and the distinct, overbearing scent of alcohol wafts off charles. his hair hangs long in greasy strands. those pale lips quiver.

"charles?"

and then he is being punched. faster than he can comprehend, a fist connects with his cheek, sending him careening back into the wall until he hit it. unable to get his balance, he falls rather unceremoniously onto his ass, grasping at his chin. pietro’s chorus of mocking laughter shrieks directly into his ear.

"he got decked!!!" the child squeals in delight, "good hit!"

erik rubs his chin, "pietro, i told you to wait."

"you're not the boss of me."

"i," erik grimaces as he tries to ease his aching jaw. he didn't know charles could punch that hard. by the sight of charles shaking his hand out, he suspects charles didn't either, "i very much am."

"you shouldn't be here," snarls charles but his attention is clearly caught by pietro who is rocking back and forth on his heels.

"good to see you too, old friend," erik grunts out and then watches as charles steps towards and bends get a better look at pietro, "and walking."

charles snaps his head toward him, glaring, "no thanks to you."

truer words had never been spoken. erik attempts to brace himself against the wall. all his thoughts jumble in his mind worse than normal, fighting a brain fog from charles' outburst.

"papa!"

wanda's little hands clutch his arm as she tries with futility to help him up. a very agreeable mood then. good. keeping wanda agreeable was top priority. her eyes narrow at charles, though, which make erik cup her face gently.

"i'm fine. my friend was just surprised to see me," erik assures her. red sparks at her clenched fists, "wanda, deep breaths."

his daughter nods and does so, with no small amount of panic on erik's part. this is why he needed charles. he was a calm in a storm. usually.

hank finally catches up to them, "why don't you two come with me to the kitchen to get some cookies and leave your dad and professor xavier to talk?"

"cookies?" asks pietro before taking off, leaving both charles' and wanda's hair swinging in the breeze he left.

hank sighes and looks to wanda. wanda looks instead to erik with big pleading eyes. he nods at her as she moves, taking hank's hand, smiling at him.

"what kind of cookies?" she asks, rather sweetly as hank leads her down to the kitchen.

erik looks at charles, "we need to talk."

"my study, then."

[edvinception]

so what does this mid season finale mean for the characters in your opinion? im interested in hearing your thoughts

here are mine (keep in mind that I've yet to watch the episodes with subtitles so i only know what i understood with my a2 swedish) :

so im relieved nina did not exactly end up killing someone but the driver managed to say "nina ek" so she'll have those bad guys on her ass and possibly frederik will get hurt. she's in a really bad place and things are getting exponentially worse so it's not looking too good for her...

so with magda/gustav i think it's quite obvious sonja will be the only match but since she's leaving wherever the children live and going into hiding they won't be able to find her for a while so either magda being on the bring of death or she will actually die...so gustav will be a total mess

linus.. im not quite sure what his plot will be. it seems like they've started seriously mentioning the tanja trauma (especially in ep 5!) and zoe is showing up a lot but there's literally NOTHING between them so far. he's very very guarded and zoe is just not in a really good place so i dont even know how anything COULD happen, he pretty much does not have anything going for him right now which could be a good thing since he seems to barely be holding onto his newfound life and stability but it would be nice to actually have a storyline

honestly kind of happy that del 2 will be nina focused rather than sonja she has been really interesting this season, i also doubt we'll be seeing a lot of sonja the second arc at least not until the end so i think this will give them more room to develop the siblings' storylines because tbh the thing i looked most forward to in epilogen was their lives following sonjas death absence and we had some sonja focused episodes which i didn't really appreciate

What a fun and interesting ask! Thank you! I'm happy to read your thoughts!

Yeah Nina's need for revenge just put herself and everyone else in grave grave danger, does it sound familar? Has it happened before?

Also lmao at her calling prison girl a coward. Nina really? You are the one hiring someone to kill your mother because you can't do it yourself. Just like your grandpa did, just like your mum did.

While I do understand her hate for Sonja and it's completely valid I'm not behind her wanting to kill Sonja. She's putting everyone at risk which is yikes. It's hard, she's obviously driven by alot of hatr but also heartbreak. I think that's quite different from Sonja and Anders actually. But she's heading there which is interesting. Also how will her brothers react when they find out what she did? And how will Sonja?

I so wish Sonja and Nina would have spotted eachother as a cliffhanger. Imagine Sonja seeing Nina with prison girl and connecting the dots.

I can definitely see Fredrik being used to punish Nina or lure her somewhere. She was already on Aho's shit list and now she caused 80 million kroner (about 8 million euros) go up in flames. They will take revenge for sure.

I'm not into Magdas storyline at all. She doesn't have any personality, I don't know her. She went from relatively healthy to dying in two days?!?!?! Does it work like that? I find it unrealistic and sometimes I can overlook it and sometimes I can't. But I'm happy to be corrected. Also how common is it for a grandma to be a match but not a parent? And surely there are other donors? We have a register specifically for bonemarrow that you can register to. But I'm not very knowledgeable about that so I shouldn't speak too much.

All in all I find it to just be unnecessary drama. They could have had it just be Tove wanting sole custody and done something else with the screentime. I feel nothing for Magda at this point.

I was more than happy watching Gustav struggle as a dad and trying to keep his head above water. This doesn't do anything for me at all.

Going forward I guess we will see Gustav do anything to save Magda. Maybe he will get a hold of Sonja. Maybe it will be Nina. Regardless even if Sonja is a match, how will the transplant even take place? Sonja would have to come clean, be sent to prison or be in immediate danger, as would her kids. Is it gonna me Magda's safety vs everyone else's? I know Gustav will do anything for her but does it mean risking his siblings?

And finally Linus, he's storyline is not as set. He and Zoey has something going on but they are definitely just friends at this point. He's reserved and guarded but she's definitely going to him whenever she needs help. Him mentioning Tanja was huge. You could see him struggling with it. And she already knew because that was likely all over media. I think we could see Linus facade start to crack. He's obviously pushing people and feelings away and has been for a while. But I think and hope it will come crashing down for him. He craves stability more than anything and he holds on to the normal life he has built for himself but I think he's running from his feelings and I don't think he's coping.

I expect to see the same amount of Sonja in part 2 but I think Linus will take a step forward. Definitely alot with Nina and hopefully many sibling scenes. Especially confrontational scenes and scenes where they talk and comfort eachother.

[what-is-denial-if-not-fanfiction]

AU! Where Peter doesn't know Erik is his father. Just a little ficlet that's been on my mind lately.

---------

The best thing about Pietro Maximoff was his sister, Wanda. They were opposites in everyway - she was jaded, Peter was happy-go-lucky. They would argue and almost blow up Marya's house but it was their thing. In every moment that defined who Peter was she was there.

Then Wanda died. And Peter couldn't do anything. He should have seen it coming. But he didn't.

So, surrounded by his friends,  who had decided to throw him a surprise birthday party - he had never felt so alone.

"Do.. you not like it?" Ororo tentatively asked.

Peter was staring blankly at the cake, eerily still. He didn't want to celebrate, not when he knew he wasn't supposed to be alone.

"I'm sorry I- need to go," he choked out.

"Peter, wait!" Mystique yelled after him, but he was already too long gone.

--

Time moved far too slowly for Peter. But Wanda had always been there to make it a little bit more bearable. He knew that her spiral started when their powers manifested. People would look at them in disdain, twins who had red and silver hair and a boy who couldn't keep still for more than a single second. So they hid their powers even if it only lasted for a while.

They'd spend their days wondering what would have happened if their father was there to teach them. Would they then feel any semblance of normalcy? Would they be accepted? Would he be proud of them?

They'd spend hours making plans, that once they turned eighteen they'd set out to find their father, even if it was just to know.

Even when they were apart they could always feel what the other was, where the other was. Then nothing.

The days when they fought were always the worst, where Wanda would tell Peter that he couldn't possibly understand - not knowing how to control your powers. She was right, he didn't. But that didn't mean that Peter suffered anything less. What he wouldn't give now, to make even those days last forever.

Peter sat beneath his favorite tree in Westminster Manor, where he would often be found listening to his walkman watching the students of the school.

The moon was beautifully full tonight, and the thick coolness of the midnight air was wrapping itself around Peter like a blanket. Taking another swig at his beer, he looked down at the photo he held reverently between his fingers and the tears started to flow again.

--

Erik, like the rest of the X-men, was left worried by the reaction that the boy had. Charles had advised to give Peter time, and in Erik's defense, he had certainly tried - but something pulled him towards the boy. At first he had tried to ignore the niggling ache whenever he was near him but he couldn't help but be drawn in.

Thankfully, it didn't take too long to find the silver-haired boy.

"Why did you leave?" Erik asked, sitting down beside Peter. And suddenly a pair of startlingly glassy eyes were set on him. Peter had been crying.

"Because there used to be two cakes. Now, there's only one," Peter said.

He was confused, was Peter truly greedy enough to be upset by, God forbid - a lack of cake?

"What do you mean-" his voice laced with irritation. But was cut off by himself when his eyes landed upon a photo that Peter was holding.

"I had a twin."

And it didn't elude Erik that Peter had used the word had. Past tense.

"I'm sorry."

"Nah man, I probably owe the guys an apology for leaving like that. It's just-"

"You don't have to say anything," putting his hand on Peter's shoulder. He was surprised how much the boy leaned in to his touch, but he knew what it felt like to grieve.

"She killed herself, a couple of months before Apocalypse. I guess she was finally tired of hiding, of being ridiculed, of being feared. I knew she felt bad but I never did anything. I should've seen it coming."

"You shouldn't have had to hide."

"I know, but for a guy who moves as fast as me, I always seem to be too late."

There were no words that Erik could offer, not without sounding patronizing nor hypocritical. He knew first hand what it was like for your powers to fail you. With Anya, with Magda, with Nina.

"Tell me about her-" gesturing to the photo "-what was she like, was she a runner like you?"

Peter's mouth twitched, barely making a ghost of a smile.

"Wanda? A speedster? Pfft. No. No. She was- like Jean. From her powers and red hair to boot."

"Oh?"

"At first I was so jealous because she manifested earlier than me. She was nine then. I was eleven when my powers showed up and even still man, she could make beams and move things and read minds and me, I could run," Peter snorted derisively.

"Don't put yourself down Peter, God knows what I would've done with powers like yours."

"I'm sorry about them."

"What else?" choosing instead to change the topic.

"We..uh, this was taken in our backyard-" looking down at the photo "we'd pretend to be superheroes, I was Quicksilver and she'd be Scarlet Witch. Drove our aunt crazy we did - having to clean the backyard with the mess we made."

"Aunt? You don't live with your parents?"

"No. Our mom died giving birth to us"

"And your father?"

"We don't know him. He doesn't even know exist. All we got from our aunt was that he could control metal and his name."

"They told me you control metal"

"My mom once knew a guy who could do that"

Erik went still. Sensing this Peter hastily added, "Don't worry man, it's not you."

"His name?" His heart was beating rapidly - some quick math was all it took, Peter was 28. His voice apprehensive even to his own ears.

"Magnus Eisenhardt."

Erik remained frozen in his seat. Beside him was Peter - his son. His son that he didn't even know he had. The joy that suddenly filled him knowing he had someone was quickly overtaken by anguish - he had a son that he was never there for, and yet another daughter dead.

For the blow to be lessened or worsened by that he didn't know. He didn't know her at all to truly grieve, but that was the point wasn't it - he didn't know her and she was gone before he could.

"He was the reason I came here."

"Really, why?" Erik had said with forced casualty, only hoping that Peter wouldn't notice.

"Wanda- she.. she always wanted to find him. To meet him, we made plans back then to look for him but they never happened. When she died, I thought... maybe, if I could find him for her, she'd be happy. And the Professor technically owes me for breaking you out - so I thought maybe he could help finding him with Cerebro. But then Apocalypse happened and.." Peter's thoughts trailed.

"And now?" Erik had to know.

"I don't know anymore. I wanted to find him even then, but I'm 28 now. When I was a kid, when we were kids we'd dream of being with him and finally feeling normal. Like we belonged. Marya tried. She really did - but she could only do so much to help us. Now, he- he's probably moved on. A different family, a new life. I don't want to disturb all that for some childish dream. I mean, what am I even gonna say when I meet him? When he demands proof? 'Hi I'm Peter, I'm your son, so remember my mom? She was your wife, you had a daughter then there was a fire then she died and then she left? Turns out she was pregnant and now there's me. Did I mention I have twin? She's dead too by the way'" a bitter chuckle rose from Peter.

How ironic then that Peter was saying that to his father. He knew that had Peter known he wouldn't have said so, so bluntly but that wouldn't make it hurt any less than the knife that was now twisting in his gut.

"Peter-"

"Pietro." The boy replied.

"It's my real name. We had to change our names to fit in. We already had silver and red hair. Only takes a weird name for us to be branded even more freakish than we already were."

Erik's mouth was as dry as cotton now, and tears were threatening to slip from his eyes.

"We should... probably head back man. I'm sorry for bothering you like this. I just-"

"Pet- Pietro. You didn't bother me. I came here. I- any man would be happy to know you're their son. If you want to talk again..."

Peter smiled. "Thanks, Erik."

Ps. Was definitely not proofread. I'm sorry.

[the-dimitrescu-seamstress]

The Portrait Dress: BTS, Part 1

I did say I was going to document my process on this project, didn’t I?

Well, I’ve not started as other things are currently kicking my ass, but I can certainly discuss something that consumed me and was the actual lynchpin on whether or not I could actually make this dress.

FINDING THE RIGHT FABRIC.

Fair warning, this may get technical and boring, but this really i the mentality of the process I/Magda would go through.

Samples.

Samples, samples, samples, samples. I can not stress how important it is to actually see and feel and touch the fabric you’ll be wearing, especially since a good bit of fabric is bought online these days. It saves you a LOT of heartache and headache from realising you bought the wrong fabric and now you have an entirely useless roll of it.

Go to fabric stores or outlets. Walk the aisles. Touch the fabric. See how it hangs, folds, and interacts with other fabrics. I’ve had colors completely change when placed next to each other. Oh, is that a lovely light platinum? Wouldn’t it be a pity if it suddenly turned BLUE or showed a GREEN tinge to it when put up against other fabric you like? 

You will know what you’re looking for. Say you see a beautiful roll that looks the proper weight... until you touch it, and it feel stiff, coarse, or... worst of all... oily. Not in a greasy manner, but in a polyester/petroleum based way. 

Also, no, you won’t look like a weirdo if you carry around a bolt of fabric and look for a good lining or pairing. I’ve carried five to six foot long ROLLS around.

Samples also help tell the truth of what is being sold.

This sample? Described as 100% Indian silk, running at around $200 a yard, and sold either wholesale or through select high-end sites. When I got this sample, it was incredibly stiff and clearly polyester. Buyer beware.

Another reason why buying samples is important?

LIGHTING.

This holds very true if you are buying online, because you don’t know what light they’re using to photograph the fabric. They could have the best, pure white light, but that may not be what you have. They could also have directed light, which can be annoying as hell and rather deceiving. Let me show you.

These are nine of the samples that I bought, lit by an overhead bulb and my much brighter sewing light. The sample I ended up going is the darkest one in the group of four (lower right). And yes, I whited out where I bought the fabric from because I’m a little protective of my sources.

And here are the samples with only the overhead on. Note the difference in color.

The “$200 Indian silk” under my sewing light. The design, which looked woven on at first is clearly painted or silkscreened, adding to the stiffness and giving it a raised look.

Lighting angles can also change things dramatically, as fabrics can have luster and shine to them, or even two different color tones.. The portrait has Alcina with a dark, reddish-brown wrap. Here are the silk samples I bought. In the online shop, there was barely any difference in the images, but here?

Angled side shot and direct overhead shot. What happens when you buy a lovely copper and then find it has a green overtone to it when you hold it at an angle? Or a dusky rose that goes brown?

Play with your samples. Compare them to one another, and through a process of elimination, you’ll eventually be able to pick what is right.

In the end, I wound up choosing a two-toned red-black fabric that I already had in my stash, but this was still a good exercise in learning.

What is the lesson? Take time in choosing your fabric. It will make a world of difference.

Next time, I’ll talk the little details; accessories, the hat, and maybe patterns.

[jackyjango]

Shark Shaped Love

Cherik Week- Day 6: Family AU 

‘That one!' Wanda says, tip-toeing to point at a grey soft toy.

'Are you sure?' Erik asks, and she nods her head sagely; just like she had the last two times.

‘Alright.' Now, Erik doesn't really need to use the controller to move the claw and grab the soft toy from the claw machine, but he doesn't need on-lookers accusing him of cheating with his powers. So he pretends to move the controller around all the while easily moving the metal claw across the glass with his powers and grabbing the grey soft toy.

'Here,' Erik says, picking the toy as it spills into the tray and handing it to Wanda. It's some sort of a fluffy shark with a wide, red mouth trimmed with sharp, white teeth.

Wanda grabs it from his hands with a feral grin. She turns the toy this way and that and her grin turns into an equally feral frown. 'This isn't Nemo,' she says, glaring up at Erik accusingly.

'What?' Erik asks, confused. 'But this is what you asked for.'

'I told you Nemo isn't grey, Wanda.' Peter laughs beside her, and when the thrill of his sister's misfortune fades, he tugs at her hand impatiently-- like he has been for the last ten minutes. 'Come on, let's go look at the cars.'

Still glaring, Wanda shoves the shark into Erik's limp hands with a force unfair from a five-year-old and runs away with her brother to a stall a few feet away from them.

A wave of amusement washes across Erik's mind, and he turns to find Charles barely constraining a chuckle. 

'Are my struggles that amusing?' Erik asks, sighing heavily. 

'Adorable, mostly,' Charles says, still smiling.

Now, Erik doesn't duck his head to hide his flush that takes over his face. He absolutely doesn't. He ducks his head to stare at the damn shark, and the offending shark stares back at him, mouth open widely in a silly grin.

'Right,' Erik says, clearing his suddenly dry throat. He moves to dump the damned shark in a large metal bin which is already full to the brim with discarded toys when Charles' hand darts forward to clutch at his arm so quickly that it leaves Erik reeling in place.

'No!' Charles says, urgently. 'Don't throw it away.' He must have sensed Erik's surprise and confusion, for he soon recovers and says hopefully, 'I'd like to keep it If you don't mind.’

What for? Erik wants to ask, but hey, if Charles wants a shabby shark soft toy, then Erik will bloody well make sure that Charles has a shabby shark soft toy.

'Thank you.' Charles lets out a relieved sigh and hugs the toy close to his chest when Erik hands it over to him. Erik tries not to feel jealous of a damned soft toy. He tries, he really does-- because this is just their first date, after all-- and fails miserably.

Speaking of dates, this isn't what Erik had in mind when he'd asked the twin's elementary teacher out after months spent in each other’s company-- either debating over a chess board or awkwardly trying to flirt. No. He had saved a few week's wages to reserve a table at a fancy restaurant and had promised Kitty a few extra bucks to babysit the kids and take them to the fair. He’d even rented out a suit. But in the end, Kitty had come down with a flu and had cancelled at the last minute. The kids had been too worked up by the idea of going to the fair to listen to his pleas and Charles had been adamant on not wanting to postpone. And so here Erik was, at a fun fair trying to wrangle his children’s whims while fumbling his way with Charles.  

'I'm sorry if this isn't what you had in mind when I asked you out,' Erik says as they make their way to the stall the twins are jumping in front of.

'Oh, no!' Charles smiles brightly, eyes twinkling under the flashy LED lights strung around. 'This is wonderful, Erik.' His smile turns nostalgic and his eyes fond. 'Raven and I had always wanted to go to the fair when we were kids, but alas-' he huffs out a laugh, 'mother thought that it was below us. I-'

'VatiVatiVati,' Peter zooms towards them without warning, cutting Charles short. 'I want that car. Can I have that car?' he asks, pointing at a set of toy cars put out on display. 'CanICanICanI-'

'Fine,' Erik concedes before Peter’s words dissolve into a high speed rant. 'You can have them.'

'I want the silver one and Wanda wants the red one!' 

Erik sighs and lets himself be dragged towards the payment desk.

The night deepens and the wind picks up speed as they make their way through a few stalls and games, Charles and Erik content to stay back and keep an eye on the twins as they run around.

Charles begins worming his way to Erik's side subtly, and taking the hint, Erik risks looping an arm around Charles' shoulder, hesitant at first and then boldly when Charles smiles contentedly.

Ever perceptive, Wanda swirls on her heel and asks with a paint peeling scowl, 'Vati, why are you holding Mr.Charles?'

Erik takes a minute to curse at the nosiness of five-year-olds while Charles crouches down to her level and tells her gently that 'Mr. Charles was feeling cold and Vati was only warming him up.'

Mercifully, she takes his answer without further comment and gets distracted by the prospect of ice cream.

'No. Absolutely no,' Erik says as they stop by a cotton candy stall and the kids turn to him with twin pouts and a litany of 'please Vati's. Because the cheap cotton candy is nothing but sugar and the kids'll get high on a sugar rush by the time they get home and refuse to fall asleep-- not that Peter needs the excuse of a sugar rush to refuse to fall asleep. But then, Charles turns towards him, lower lip protruded in a pout and says mischievously with wide, blue eyes, ‘Please, Vati’, and Erik's protests die a strangled death.

In his branded slacks, expensive shirt and fine-wool cardigan, Charles looks out of place in a small town fair crowded by steel mill workers like Erik. Hell, he looks out of place with Erik himself, who's dressed in a worn plaid shirt, tattered jeans, unkempt hair and shabby beard. But then he looks at Charles, who's laughing brightly with his kids or playing with them or throwing popcorn at each other or beaming warmly when Erik buys them a ghastly looking pink cotton candy that Erik realises that Charles is exactly where he should be. By his side.

Still clutching the shark under one arm, Charles tears a bit of his candy and offers it to Erik. Though he should, Erik doesn't refuse and eats it from Charles' fingers.

Despite all the sugar they'd consumed, the exhaustion of running around wins and the kids begin to fall asleep eventually. Calling it a night, Erik picks up Wanda's sleeping form while Charles picks Peter up, and make their way towards the car.

Erik tucks Wanda in the back seat while Charles gets into the passenger seat with Peter. The tattered engine of his car rattles in protest as Erik starts it, startling Peter out of his sleep.

Charles pulls a confused Peter to his chest, tucks his silver head below his chin and murmurs softly until he goes back to sleep. Erik's heart constricts a little at the sight, and he suppresses the urge to smoothen a hand down his chest.

The drive to Charles' place doesn't take more than fifteen minutes, and all through it, his mother's voice whispers inside Erik’s head, I don't want you to be alone, Erik. 

A trepidation flares in Erik's chest as he walks Charles from the car to his front door.

Erik hasn't done this in more than seven years-- There were very few before Magda and no one after her. He doesn't know how to dress for a date, how to compliment his partner or what he should be doing apart from being his stoic self. What if Erik had somehow managed to sabotage the date? What if he had scared Charles away? What if Charles doesn't want to see him again? These questions repeat on a loop in his mind like a broken record. He must have projected some of it, or Charles must have caught it either way because Charles smiles softly at him as they stop at his door and says, 'Thank you, Erik. I had a lovely night.'

'Charles, I was wondering if you'd like to try dinner some-'  

Erik doesn't get to complete his sentence as Charles closes the distance between them to press a firm kiss against his lips-- a kiss that tastes sickly sweet like cotton candy-- and whispers, 'Yes. I'd like that very much, Erik. I'd like that very much.'

Later that night as Erik gets ready to go to bed, he sends Charles a message wondering why he wanted the shark soft toy.

Well, comes Charles' reply, ever polite, I can't go to bed alone. Or without cuddles. Terrible habit, you see.

The message is accompanied by a selfie of Charles lying in bed in a striped pajama top, hair tousled and smile warm, clutching the shark to his chest.

And this shark reminds me of you.

Erik's heart constricts in his chest once again, and this time, he smooths a hand down it to ease the pain.

'I'm not alone, Mama' Erik whispers to the ceiling, wondering if she's listening. 'And neither is this family.'

-

[stattic-writes]

BD: Mission

https://statticscribbles.tumblr.com/post/639099629845233664/masterlist

Support My Writing?

[zwiezraczek]

6 + 1 Underground [Four x OC/reader] Chapter 1

SUMMARY: Sasha is a Polish girl, with a strange past. She has various skills, driving amongst others. So she becomes Eight. And you know that Four plus Four is Eight...

CHAPTER 1: Eight is Born - CHAPTER 2

WORDS: 2.3k

Sasha instantly opened her eyes, taking the gun from under her pillow and pointing it at the black figure that stood in front of the window of her apartment. Her blond messy hair was all over her face as she tried to focus on the intruder, waiting for them to move, to put their arms up, to surrender. But they didn't. They stood immobile, there, in between the airy curtains moved by the breeze.

“Got me,” the man said with a warm tone, just as if he was smiling, “you're quick as hell.”

“Shut the fuck up and turn on the lights motherfucker,” she barked still pointing at him. Her eyes were focused on the man moving slowly towards the little lamp in the right corner, as she moved herself on her bed. But he took his time, and she didn't like it. “Don't you fucking play with me or I'll fucking kill you.”

“So many swear words coming from the mouth of a young and delicate lady,” the stranger teased just before switching on the light.

The scene could have been embarrassing if Sasha was the shy type of girl, but she wasn't. Her large white t-shirt barely covered her panties as she was on her knees over her sheets, eyes focused on her target. Her blue pearly eyes looked at him, she had the face of an angel. This was why they chose her.

When her mother died, she lost everything, even her father, who spiraled down into immorality more than he did before. So she decided to go all illegal, no strings attached in this Polish city, Sasha and her pretty face coming right into the Polish mafia. They told her that the best she could be was a whore for them, maybe even the boss if she was lucky enough, but Sasha was so much more than she looked. She was Kubica. That was how her mother used to call her when she was behind the steering wheel. She was reckless, she was bold, she could be a danger for the people driving around her and to tone this down, her mother made her take some ballet classes. Discipline and recklessness, everything Sasha was made of. From pseudo whore to mafia's chef, Piotr's, driver.

“Fuck you, don't you dare telling me what I should be or not, you fucker,” she dangerously whispered as the man casually stood next to the lamp, arms crossed. “What do you want from me?”

“Why don't you run from me?” the stranger continued still looking at her. She felt disoriented, making a small head tilt as he said these words. “Fucking millennials, when you try to be like them they go “No, I don't get you old man, tbh sorry”,” he continued, a little bit deceived by what he just witnessed. “Billie Eilish, or whatever? Doesn't ring a bell?”

“I won't repeat myself,” she warned, her index ready to pull the trigger. “You don't talk, you won't live.”

“Okay, okay, let's chill a bit. I'm not here to kill you or whatever, but more to... Allow you to be free?” She rose an eyebrow, not putting down her gun. This man was stranger than she had expected, it would have been easier if he just wanted to kill her. She would have pulled the trigger. Boom, no problem. “Well, you know, I know you very well Sasha.”

“Ho the fuck do you know my name?” her words were sharper than a blade. Nobody in the mafia world knew her by her real name, she was Kubica. No Sasha, just Kubica, the driver.

“I know many things about you Sasha... Damn, that's so uncomfortable to stand, I'll sit if you don't mind,” he concluded before sitting on a small stool near the lamp. “So, I was saying. I know many things about you, that you're a ballerina...”

“Was,” she corrected angrily.

“Yeah, dancing stays dancing,” he brushed the subject off as soon as he spoke about it, “you work for that mafia for a long time because your father is an asshole that let you down when your mother died...”

“Don't you dare talking about my mother, understood?”

“Wow, relax. Promise. Wow, taboo. Okay, I'll remember that. So,” he pursued after a small pause, “your dad does some bad shit, you didn't like that shit so you started to do your own shit and your ways are parted now, Kubica.”

“My mom used to call me like that,” she whispered, body slowly becoming less and less tense. “Who are you?”

“Guardian angel, wanker, asshole billionaire... Names are countless, depends of the people you're asking. But mostly, I'm a ghost.”

“You fucking kidding me,” she erected while looking at him from head to toe.

“Well, technically, in the records, I'm dead. But, really, I'm not. Can you believe how simple it is to fake your own death?”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“Exactly,” he said as if she cared. “And then comes the fun part of being dead: you can do whatever you want. Heard about the big Coup, Murat Alimov, Rovach Alimov?” She only nodded. “Our job. We did it.”

“We? I thought you were alone.”

“We'll make the introductions later if you don't mind Sasha. But, well, we have another touchy touchy mission and we'd need a good driver so...”

“I'm working for Piotr,” she interrupted him harshly. “I'm loyal.”

“I know, discipline and shit but like... We really need you? Pretty please?”

“You have plenty of drivers in the sea, go and fish for them.”

“No many drivers are Kubica and look like an angel.”

“I said I'm loyal. Now leave or I'll blow your head.”

“Wouldn't you like to piss your father off even a tiny bit little more? Imagine him learning that you're dead, and you know, he's a motherfucker basically, he fucks around now... You'll be able to do some nasty things to that immoral motherfucker without being punished for it. Total freedom. Piotr can't guarantee that, but I can.”

He got her.

“I'll listen to you.”

She became Eight. She died in a car accident, suicide as the media said. She drove directly into the Odra, from the golden bridge right into it. Big scandal for the media, as they found the big Polish billionaire's daughter dead – in fact they never found her body, only the car – after years of searching for her. Daddy was very concerned, he cried his eyes out during the funeral. From afar, she saw Piotr attending the funeral, along with some of her mafia's friends. Magda stood next to Piotr, holding his hand, while she sobbed with puffy eyes. Sasha's heart was ready to stop as she saw this girl crying for her, she would cry for her too if it was her funeral. But now, Sasha was dead. Eight was born.

“No shit, your dad's a fucking actor,” One commented, standing next to her in the snow.

Already January. Snow fell during Christmas Eve, the day she spent with Maga watching stupid Polish movies and drinking cheap wine from the shop around the corner. Her last Christmas. The bare trees carried now a large amount of snow on their branches, sometimes falling off. Anna liked snow, she would miss it in California. She would miss her country, she would miss the food, she would miss everything. She would miss her language. But she should be able to make it, for her mom right?

“My father's a fucking asshole who knows how to cover up his fucking deeds,” she replied. “I don't wanna see this masquerade or whatever, we should go.”

“Wow, the last time somebody told me that they wanted to go and not watch their own funeral was... Right now,” he admitted. “Even Two wanted to watch it until the end. But fine, we'll have plenty of time to discuss our next move with the Ghosts.”

“Let's go then. I hope you have nice cars in the US.”

He smiled, not answering. That was a yes.

She slept during half of the flight, they arrived around noon, time to sleep in Poland, still early in the morning. She rubbed her eyes, siting next to One in the pilot's cabin. The engine was still roaring as they landed safely on the yellowish sand. This was too early for any shit like this, she thought as she grabbed her sport bag in which all her belongings were stuffed. Some comfy clothes, the keys of the cars that died with her and a picture of her mom and her, hidden between all these matters. One forbid taking too personal stuff, he agreed for the keys though, but she needed her mother with her. Just to feel like home.

She instantly regretted putting on a sweater when she stepped outside the engine. She felt drops of sweat run on her back, she knew she was absolutely sweaty right now; the only thing that reassured her was that she put a tank top under all of this. Life saver. She followed One's steps in the sand, sleepy as hell, wishing for a bed and a shower just to function properly. They landed in the middle of abandoned planes, in the middle of nowhere, in a Californian desert. Great, she was dead and lost. Was it all worth it, she asked herself as she followed one into one of the planes with a large ghost imprinted on it.

There were the others, the five others. They didn't even flinch when she entered the room with One, doing what they had to do. She looked all around her, the atmosphere was oppressive because of the lack of lighting, some neon green lights escaped from the monitors some of them worked on, stale smell spread all around the “room”. One clapped and all their heads rose, all eyes on Sasha, Eight, now. They scrutinized her, and she scrutinized them as they all gathered around them. It was like a cult welcoming a new member. She got shivers down her spine, tightening her grip around her bag. A short brunette holding folders against her chest was now standing in front of them, next to her a black man with a gun in his hand; a cold blonde looked at them and slowly made her way up to them, next to a man sitting on a chair in front of a computer. And the last one,a  blond man with a hoodie jumped over the table to find himself near, standing now next to the brunette. Great picture, the Power Rangers, she thought.

“Please welcome Eight, our new driver,” One said the group as they all looked at her. “No hugs, no kisses, she's a Kubica, no paparazzi or whatever.”

“Kubica,” the blond man whispered, catching Sasha's attention before the man sitting stood up and interrupted him.

“Welcome Eight, I'm Three. Was a hitman, now I'm a good hitman,” he precised with a finger up as the blonde who was standing next to him rolled her eyes.

“Shut up”, she cut him off as he looked offended.

“Ay, mami why are you so nasty with me?”

“I'm Two, former French FBI agent,” she pursued ignoring the man's whining.

“Clear and precise,” Sasha commented under her breath, already amazed by the woman. “Nice to meet you.”

“Five, former doctor in a Mexican hospital,” the brunette said with a welcoming smile. “It will always be a pleasure to heal your wound. Hope you won't move as much as Two when I try to do my magic.”

“Shut up,” Two groaned.

“Seven, sniper,” the black man introduced himself after putting the gun on the table and coming to shake her hand. “Hope you drive smoothly so I can give head shots from the car window.”

“I'll try my best,” she shyly answered while knowing she could do it. She actually did it sometimes as Piotr's men were having a hard time.

“Four, skywalker,” the hooded man said looking at her with his green eyes. “If you wanna watch a movie or something like that, just hit me up,” he continued as he ran his hand through his hair after putting down his hoodie. His curly blond hair was all messy, was he trying to comb it with his fingers?

“Thanks,” Sasha replied with a little smile. “So, I'm Eight, mafia's driver.”

“Liar,” Three commented, “not with this pretty face of yours.”

“You'd be surprised,” One interrupted as he patted Three's shoulder. “That girl has exceptional skills.”

“Six had exceptional skills too,” Two remarked, arms crossed now. “Didn't prevent his death.”

“Will we wallow for a long time, mourn and stuff like this,” One asked while looking at her. “He died a hero, that's it. We all knew what the mission was about and accepted possible death. Period as millennials say.”

“Period,” Two asked. “That's not the women's thing?”

“Dot if you prefer,” Sasha could hear One's sigh as he answered, but Two wasn't convinced. “Whatever, Eight's our new driver and that's it.”

“He promised some nice cars,” Sasha tried to say, but only Five seemed to listen to her.

“He's a liar, we had a horrible car in Hong Kong, not practical at all,” the brunette told her, as she seemed to bite her lip.

“Not practical,” Three added almost yelling.

“Whose fault? Whose,” One reproached him. “Okay, now we're finished with our complaints, Five, take Eight to her trailer please, it's the one next to yours. And Eight, make yourself at home.”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Frido's Princesse

Hardersson x Baby!Reader

Fridolina Rolfö x Baby!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Frido's reaction to your birth

Frido's playing for Bayern Munich when she finds out.

She knew, of course, that Pernille was pregnant. She knew it was a girl (she had been sending in middle name suggestions for months now). What she didn't know (or rather, expect) was for you to be born already.

She picks up her phone after practice to a message from Magda. She ignores it at first, scrolling through the rest of her notifications, but then she notices the picture attached.

It piques her interest.

It's of Magda and Pernille. Pernille looks exhausted, deep bags under her eyes but she's smiling. She also looks to be shirtless too. Magda's wearing a shirt though, beaming as well but neither of them is what Frido focuses on.

Lying on Pernille's bare chest is you.

Your eyes are closed and your nose is a little wrinkled up like from your short time in this world, it's already disappointed you.

And...

You're just perfect.

MAGDA 🤪 coming for a visit?

The train would take too long (about five or six hours) so Frido's already booking a flight and shoving her kit back into her bag to get on the next plane.

In barely two hours, she's knocking on the door of Pernille's apartment and shoving past Magda to get inside.

"Where is she?" Frido demands, looking around.

Magda rolls her eyes. "Oh, hi, Frido! How am I? Oh, I'm great! How are you?"

"Hi, Magda," Frido says," Where is she?"

"Right here," Pernille appears from down the hall, cradling a little bundle wrapped up tight in blankets. She turns you in her arms so Frido can get a good look.

You're tiny. It was one thing to see how tiny you were in the photo but you're especially tiny in real life. You're awake now too, blinking your eyes a few times as you both stare at each other.

"I...She...Hi." Frido's voice has gone embarrassingly soft and low as she coos at you, reaching out for you briefly before Magda pulls her back.

"Wash your hands," She says," And change your clothes. I don't want airport germs on the princesse."

Frido huffs. "Don't tell me her name is princesse?"

"Go get clean," Magda says," Go on."

Frido's never moved so quickly in her life. She'd brought a change of clothes with her and washed her hands and then her face for good measure.

When she returns, Pernille is sitting on the sofa and Magda's taken her spot on the arm of the chair.

"Support her head!" Magda says as Pernille transfers you into Frido's arms. "And! And keep her close to your body!"

"She isn't the first baby I've held, Magda," Frido says to her friend but she doesn't take her eyes off of you.

Your eyes are still open and you're still looking at her.

"Hi," She says," I'm your moster Frido. I've been waiting to see you for a while now..."

She looks at Pernille and Magda in question.

" y/n," Pernille says, exchanging a soft look with her partner.

"It's very nice to meet you, y/n."

"y/n Fridolina," Magda continues.

Suddenly, Frido's throat feels very dry. "What?"

"y/n Fridolina," Pernille says," You sent so many suggestions but none of them felt quite right."

Frido bites at her lip so she doesn't burst into tears, looking back down at you as a little yawn takes over your entire face. Your whole body trembles from the strength of it and it's the most adorable thing Frido has seen in her life.

She adjusts her hold on you to tuck you into the crook of her neck. Her hand comes up to softly brush the back of your head. "Hi," She whispers into your ear," I think we're going to have so much fun once you're older."

"Don't teach her that many bad habits," Magda says with an eye roll," I'd like to keep my kid for a while, you know."

"Don't listen to her, y/n," Frido says," We're going to get up to so much mischief." She glances up. "Pernille, can you grab my bag? I brought presents for my niece."

Gently, she rests you in the crook of her elbow while her other hand digs around the bag. She hadn't thought about bringing presents until she got to the airport half an hour before her flight with nothing to do.

She'd seen them in the window of a stupidly high-end store and gone in with the sole intention of buying them (along with some new perfume and a new bag).

"This is a swan," She says to you softly even though you're a matter of days old and probably don't even understand anything," And this is a moose."

You're staring up at the toys so at the very least, Frido knows that she's got your attention.

"She's got toys, Frido," Magda says.

"These are special toys just for her," Frido says," Yes, special toys just for you." She walks the swan up your body and then does the same with your moose.

She knows it's a bit too early but Frido's sure that you're smiling at her.

You make a silly little noise and smack your lips together and she all but melts at how cute you are.

"I'm going to take you home with me," She says," Yes, I am. You're coming home with me."

"Alright," Magda says," I think it's about time you give my baby back."

Frido shakes her head. "You named her after me. That must mean I've got some kind of claim on her." She smirks at Pernille and Magda. "I'm generously offering to take her away for the week so you two can catch up on sleep. Don't you want that?"

Pernille rolls her eyes with a little laugh. "I'd like to keep my baby by my side as long as possible. Maybe check in again in a few years."

Frido ignores her as she turns back to you. Somehow, you've put yourself to sleep and are snoozing comfortably in her arms. "Don't listen to them, us Fridos have to stick together."

"It's just her middle name," Magda complains but she's smiling and there's no anger in her tone," Stop smiling like you've won the lottery."

"You guys gave me this beautiful little girl to spoil," Frido says," It's hard not to smile."

"Yes, well that beautiful little girl is napping so hand her to me so I can put her down," Pernille laughs.

Begrudgingly, Frido hands you over. As Pernille goes to take you back to your crib, she flashes a smile at Magda.

"That baby better end up in a Sweden jersey," She says with a grin," Nothing but the best for my legacy."

"Your legacy?" Magda scoffs," I'm pretty sure she's my legacy."

Frido shrugs. "We can share."

[vicunaburger]

Imperfect and inhuman, are we?

Fandom: School of Rock: The Musical (AU Verse) Chapters: 2/? Pairing: Dewey Finn x OC (Magdalena Newton) The Players: Dewey Finn, Magdalena Newton, Ned Schneebly, The School of Rock Students Word Count: 1,779 Warnings: M for Future Things

Notes: Oh yeah, this was a thing I was doing.

Chapter 2 - Evening - Serenade 

It was that near perfect sort of weather outside: the kind where it was cool enough to open all the windows, but not cold enough to warrant breaking out the portable heater and pointing directly at his feet. Instead of shutting himself away in the makeshift “soundproof” corner of his apartment, Dewey decided to take his personal jam session out onto the fire escape.

He had long since chased away the neighbors who took issue with his might tributes to the rock gods, so he wasn’t too concerned with having the police called on him.

Again.

Noise complaints carried expensive ass tickets.

Besides, using an acoustic guitar dampened the noise enough to satisfy the holdout residents around the building.

“Why is this G sounding like an A? Are you out of tune- fuck!” He mumbled though the impromptu song, angrily adjusting the strings. “I thought I fixed you when the humidity changed.”

“I don’t know that song,” a voice from the alleyway below called up to him. “Play Freebird.”

Startled, Dewey nearly fell off the windowsill onto the harsh, metal grating of the fire escape. Setting he guitar -gently- on the floor of the apartment, he climbed outside, peering down over the shaky railing to the ground below.

Looking ever so much the small, porcelain doll from such a height, he spotted a familiar woman wrapped in a winter white coat. Her dark hair spilled over one shoulder onto the pristine fabric, reminding him of one of those ink blot tests the Horace Green resident counselor would give the faculty every month.

She waved up to him, but it was hard to read her expression from such a distance. He could only assume she was in a good mood from her cheeky joke about requested another song. Then again, he had yet to see her in a bad mood.

Dewey was surprised -in the very best way- to see her so early in the evening. Magdalena had a habit of catching him as he arrived home from late night practice; it was uncanny how she always seemed to sneak up on him, barely making a sound as she approached him on the sidewalk. Normally, he could hear a pin drop from six feet away, but she was something else.

They would exchange pleasantries before she would continue her trek down the sidewalk toward the city proper, “to work” as she explained. She made no attempt to elaborate on what sort of job started so late at night; so, he guessed it was something medical.

Or she was a classy hooker.

Didn’t much bother him either way.

“Hey, Snow White!” Dewey called down to her, “Hold on, I’ll be right down.”

He near leapt back into his apartment, scrambling around on all fours, picking through various piles of laundry on the floor. They were organized – in a way – by the level of wear they received throughout the week. Obviously, something on the fresher side was the goal; it would be mortifying to pick out a shirt that had food stains or some other sign of his lack of forethought to hit the laundromat last week.

Magdalena always looked like a million bucks striking down that grimy sidewalk, whereas he looked like he rolled around a thrift store clothing bin.

He had gotten most of his wardrobe from thrifting, but she didn’t need to know.

“Aaaah – I’ll be right down… gimme just another minute.” He grabbed a sweater vest from under his bed, jamming it over his head as he yelled toward the window. “I don’t want you being late… for… whatever you would be late for!”

Struggling with the vest, as he had somehow managed to slip his head through an arm hole, he failed to notice the woman sitting politely outside the window.

Magdalena watching him angrily try and right himself; amused that he was taking such great pains to dress nicely for her sudden arrival. Frankly, what he already had on was enough for her, as she enjoyed seeing him so vulnerable?

No, casual was a better choice. Sometimes the nuance escaped her.

“No need to shout, Mr. Finn.” Magdalena finally announced herself, wanting to end his struggles. “I can hear you perfectly well.”

Dewey stopped midway removing the vest, dropping the garment to the ground, and pulling his t-shirt down over his stomach. It had ridden upward in his haste, exposing his midsection entirely. A bright blush spread across his cheeks, noting the fact she had been starting directly at the exposed pudge of his belly. Was it because of the pudge? It was the pudge, he concluded, her staring at him for any other reason was making a beeline for cheesy porn fantasy territory.

“What- how did you get up here?” He asked, blinking slowly.

Magdalena tilted her head, mirroring is blink, “The stairs.”

“Well, yeah duh the stairs, I meant like how you got up here so fast. There are like fifty steps up to this floor-” He sat on the windowsill across from her.

“Fifty-three steps.” She corrected him gently, brushing some stray hair behind her ear.

“How do you- “Dewey began.

“I counted.” Magdalena finished for him. “I passed all of my arithmetic courses some years ago, Mr. Finn, as I’m sure you have.”

Pausing, he ran a hand through his mess of hair, trying to smooth down his perpetual bedhead fluff. Magdalena’s hand twitched with the impulse to run her fingers through his hair, wondering if it would be as soft as it looked against her sensitive skin. It wouldn’t have been too hard to just reach over a little, just for a brief moment to keep that sensation as a memory.

Two things kept her impulse in check: one, social convention would frown upon such a familiar gesture of affection towards a man she hadn’t yet spoke a thousand words to altogether. Two; she dared not cross the threshold between the fire escape and his apartment.

Fire escapes were public, specifically owned apartments were not.

“I… sound like a complete jackass when I talk to you. I’m usually better? Sometimes. Most times. Promise. Swear on my vinyl collection; may it melt if I’m lying.” Dewey scratched the back of his neck nervously.

Shrugging, she gave him a small, reassuring smile, “Well, I don’t know anyone personally to compare your behaviors with, but I’m hardly offended by what you say.

Dewey looked about to cry, which she couldn’t be sure if it were because of her response, or the chill in the weather. He leaned forward, elbow on his knees, with his chin in his hand. The fact that his upper body was now technically beyond the windowsill was not lost on her, her eyes flicking down to calculate the angle between his head and the window frame.

He sighed heavily, taking note of her impeccable posture, “You’re so… polite, ya know that? Like those women in fancy drama movies on PBS. Sitting around waiting to marry some fancy lord or whatever. Why are you up here talking to me anyway?”

“Oh, well, shouting from the street would be grossly inappropriate. My mother, she always says, ‘Magda’” She deepened her accent, hunching slightly, “ ‘If they cannot be close enough to hear you speaking softly, they aren’t worthy of hearing what you have to say in the first place.’”

“So, you came up here because you wanted me to hear you better?” Dewey tried to piece what he could through the thick, eastern European accent she had donned. “I would have come down! Now you’ll get that coat all covered in rust and I’m gonna feel bad about it. And that’s gonna make me break out the wallet so you can get it dry cleaned, because I need to be a gentleman.”

Magdalena laughed, covering her mouth with the back of her hand, “I can get it washed, no charity required. It’s just a coat; but a Mr. Finn is unique, so I will gladly sacrifice something that can be replaced.”

The rocker stared at her, his jaw a little slack, “…are you real?”

“The eternal question plaguing the greatest minds in history.” She played with the ends of her inky hair, twisting it around her fingers, “Maybe. Maybe not. In this instance of sitting with you, yes, we are real in relation to each other. Then again, when I leave, you might not exist until I come back. Or vice-versa.”

“Terrifying,” He replied, shaking his head sadly.

Seizing the opportunity, she reached over with her free hand, patting his shoulder softly, “Quite; but I could always be wrong, Mr. Finn.”

Dewey reached upward, placing his larger hand upon hers, frowning when he felt how cold she felt, “Hey, why didn’t you tell me you were freezing? Here.”

Before she could stop him, he took hold of both her hands, pulling them inside the warmth of the apartment, rubbing them between his own hands to generate heat. Magdalena’s arms felt like their were being pulled through a nest of razor wire, her very sinew feeling as if it were being peeled back from her muscles.

She steeled her expression, biting her tongue to keep from screeching in pain from his selfless gesture, trembling head to toe with the effort. He thankfully didn’t notice her discomfort, cupping his hands around hers and puffing warm breaths against her cold skin. What should have been a tender, friendly gesture was being overridden by her compulsion to stay outside. His permission needed to be verbal, not physical. Words were powerful things in her experience.

Her head was pounding, her vision growing blurry with the pain streaking through her veins like acid. Faintly, she could feel a small drop of blood leaking out from her nose, trickling down her to her lip, and falling onto her lap.

Dewey must have taken his attention away from her hands, his eyes growing wide as he let her go, “You’re bleeding? Are you okay? Snow?”

The woman pulled her hands toward her body, one of them going up to try and hide her bloody nose, “Oh! I’m… forgive me, it happens occasionally. Not your fault!”

The moment her hands were outside the threshold of the window, her body felt perfectly normal. No pain, no throbbing headache. Just as she had been moments before.

“Allergy medication. Sometimes with the dry weather… ah, still, I apologize for the gruesome interruption.” She took a handkerchief out of her coat pocket, wiping away the blood as best she could. “Did I get it all? Less hideous?”

Leaning forward, Dewey pretended to examine her face, struggling to keep a stern expression, “Well, less hideous than you usually are, so it’s a start. Might take a little more work to get you from hideous to tolerable.”

Magdalena pouted, stuffing the handkerchief back into her pocket, “I’ll enlist your help to make sure I’m daresay presentable in the future. Goodnight, Mr. Finn, I expect a better song choice tomorrow.”

Writing Tags: @amywright @mrgeuse  @hoodoo12 @mr-geuse @paxenera @leiasolo77 @go-commander-kim @a-subconscious-manifestation @asriells @missihart23 @heknowshisherbs @clairjohnson

[edvinception]

Please post rants about the first episode here!

Nina all broke, or at least with no cashflow, and still in that very expensive house and with a very expensive car, was a surprise. Like how could she ever afford it by herself unless her shady business with Barry is flourishing? But I guess she’s been waiting for the life insurance that’s never going to be paid out (as no corpse will ever be found…).

I for one did not understand at first that Nina was just hooking up with a huge amount of men as a coping mechanism (loved Zack and miss him as much as she does!), I thought she was doing it for money and was kind of thinking to myself “nothing about this show should surprise me, I need to toughen up”…

Linus, my beloved, is basically just in that kitchen for way to many scenes. I guess his boss Oscar and the coworker girl (love interest) are important to his storyline but we didn’t get to see him outside of work like we did with his siblings. We need more Linus.

But yes, it was true to character that he ran after the shooters at the memorial. It’s like he has a death wish it at least nothing to live for, like Gutav and Nina does with their kids, so he has no fears and he doesn’t really care what happens to him. (Insert crying emoji…!)

And what was that with Magda and bruises on her back? Did Gustav imply that the new boyfriend did it to her? I don’t know if I understood what it all was supposed to mean. Gustav is still so attractive defending his family, even as a messed up father not being able to do more than the bare minimum for his daughter.

The promo has indicated that Emil will mess up, both privately and professionally, but in this episode it thought he was the most reasonable and together of them all.

Yeah I agree. I guess she's holding on to what she can and had hoped to get money from the insurance. Also getting a new apartment might be hard if she's doing shady business for a living. I guess that's a reason for her to be desperate.

Also interesting that she's working with Barry and Kevin. I didn't expect that at all. But she's already but herself in big trouble with those new guys. I bet theg are gonna cause alot more trouble.

I don't care about prison girl having a sad home life. I'm sorry. It doesn't make me feel sorry for her one bit.

I suspect Linus will be a bit less featured in the beginning since Edvin filmed abroad but I think they've done a good job still including him even of it's a bit less than Gustav and Nina.

It's so true and I sad that before. He has less to live for in a way. They talked about their kids and he was sitting there in the middle like 🙁

Yeah I guess that is what he implied? That or she has leukemia? But that would be too much.

it's sad to see him so lost and broken. He's really not coping and is already neglecting Magda.

I'm still waiting for Emil to mess up. He seemed very guilty when he sat in his office and the way he's retiring is suspicious because what will happen to him.

He was also so adamant about them going to the memorial. Why? Is it just his guilt or something else?

[lynelovespopculture]

THE CHILLING ADVENTURES OF ZELDA CHAPTER 8-STORM’S BREWING PAY ME IN COMMENTS!!!!!!

CHAPTER 8-STORM’S BREWING

FAUSTUS IS HAUNTED BY 3 GHOSTS WHILE ZELDA WORRIED THAT HE’S FALLEN BACK ON OLD HABITS. THEN GREENDALE IS ROCKED BY A STORM. BY DAWN NOTHING WILL EVER BE THE SAME AGAIN!!!

“I’m so embarrassed.”

Faustus couldn’t help but smile. “Please stop. You have nothing, I repeat, nothing to feel embarrassed about. I mean, you’re not the 1st woman to go into false labor.”

Zelda sighed as she put on her robe. “I’m supposed to be the finest midwife our coven has ever seen but I can’t even tell the difference between real and false labor? Plus, I ruined your wonderful surprise.”

Not even 2 hours before, Zelda and Faustus were deep in the wood, surrounded by family, enjoying the romantic vow renewal Faustus had surprised her with. However, any romantic thoughts turned to panic when Zelda doubled over in pain and announced that she and Faustus’s unborn child was about to make an appearance. Quick as lightning, the family got Zelda home, undressed her, and got her into bed. Hilda checked her sister over and all seemed to be going well but 45 minutes later, Zelda’s contractions had stopped…completely. They waited 15 more minutes before officially declaring it false labor.

“Will you stop it?” Faustus asked after hearing about his wife’s embarrassment. “Yes, you are the finest midwife our coven has ever seen but you have never been pregnant before and you didn’t ruin anything. You have my ring on your finger and I have your name. I call that a win-win. I guess we were never meant to have a reception.”

Zelda laughed out loud and Faustus kissed her smile.

“But that doesn’t we can’t still have our cake,” Faustus continued, “I’m sure Hilda packed it up before she left.”

Zelda knew that she shouldn’t be excited over the mere idea of cake, but damn it, she was! “Cake?  Is it?”    

Faustus raised an eyebrow. “Chocolate? Why of course, my dearest! Your sister and I have both noticed you craving chocolate like crazy lately.  So, why don’t you lay back and relax and I’ll be right back.” Faustus kissed Zelda again and headed down to the kitchen and got the cake, forks, plates, 2 glasses of milk, and some whipped cream. As Faustus gathered up all these items, he saw a shadow pass by him, and then he heard something behind him, close behind him.

Faustus whirled around. “Who’s there?” He looked around the darkened kitchen only to find himself completely alone. Then the sounds were coming from the side. “Sabrina? Ambrose?” Faustus left the kitchen and went into the greenhouse. He looked all around yet still found nothing and no one in the room. The noise started again but he sighed when he found the noise was just a tree branch tapping on a window.

He chuckled. “I swear, Faustus, you’re acting more and more like a mortal every day.”  He shook his head, returned to the kitchen, put everything on a tray, and went upstairs to a waiting Zelda.

 They were enjoying their cake in bed when Faustus said, “Dearest, this I want to discuss something with you.”

“Of course, darling.”

“Now that we had our 2nd wedding perhaps this is the time to talk about our 2nd honeymoon,” Faustus suggested with a smile.

Zelda swallowed a piece of cake before saying, “That’s sweet, Faustus, truly darling, but I’m in no condition to go anywhere at the moment.” She smiled, patting her bump happily.

“You’re right, of course. However, I didn’t mean now. I meant later, after our child’s birth, and we could bring the baby with us, just like last year when we brought…Judas…with us.” Faustus sighed; his voice was a little sad when he spoke of his son.

Zelda sought to distract him. “When you put it that way, a 2nd honeymoon sounds lovely. Where should we go? To the mountains or to the sea? Where a good place to go in springtime? London, of course, or oh, how about Paris? Or”

“Rome?” Faustus suggested shortly.

Zelda was tempted to lower her eyes but kept them firmly on her husband and her voice even. “Rome? Why Rome? We don’t have to do everything like last year.”

Faustus nodded. “I know but the witches’ council is in Rome. Thinking of it as a working 2nd honeymoon.”

Zelda was puzzled. “I don’t understand, Faustus. This is the 1st time you’ve spoken of having business with the council.”

He shook his head. “No, not me, you. It’s time, Zelda.”

His wife was completely lost. “Time? Time for what?”

“The order of Hecate has been doing well these many months and grows stronger each day with you as its leader. Yet, we both know that it won’t be taken seriously as a religion until it is approved by the council and we still need to ordain you as high priestess.”

Zelda got a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that had nothing to do with the babe inside her. “The council, well the council is going to be tricky because they’re completely in the dark. They still think that we’re the church of night and that you’re still in charge.”

“How can that be?”

   “Last year, just as we reopened the academy, they came visiting. Well, Hilda and I panicked!  We had yet to tell the schoolchildren or the coven, let alone the council! So, we came up with a plan. I, of course, played my official role as Lady Blackwood, while Hilda used a glamour to fool them into believing she was you.”

“Hilda was posing as me?” Faustus’s eyebrow rose and a laugh escaped his lips. “I wish I’ve been there to see it.”

Zelda broke down and laughed too. “It was pretty funny, actually. Anyway, the council went away thinking everything was business as usual.”

“But it isn’t business as usual, Zelda.” Faustus pointed out. “The coven is not in the church of night and I’m no longer a high priest. Zelda, my dearest, you are ready. I keep thinking of how well you spoke at Hilda’s wedding and how well you handle that crowd. You deserved to be recognized for all your hard work.”

Zelda smiled at her husband. “It’s a lovely dream, Faustus, and I’m so happy you think so highly of me   but you and both know it’s only that, a dream. You and I both know that the witches council had never recognized a high priestess in the history of time.”

Faustus considered this. “They say there is a 1st time for everything and I can think of no witch more worthy than you, Zelda Phiona Spellman.”

Zelda simply looked at him. “Why do you believe in me so much?”

“Easiest question I’ve been asked all day. It’s because I love you but I’ve seen a woman, no, scratch that, anyone so strong. Faith and powers destroyed? Find new ones. Mad husband cursed? Move hell and earth to find a cure. Beloved niece becomes queen of hell? Team up with Elizabeth I. Nothing ever stops you, Zelda, or even slows you down, for that matter.”

“But Faustus, still, the council? I don’t know.”

“Alright, forget the council for just a second. This is your last week at the school before you go on maternity leave, right?”

Zelda nodded. “Yes.”

“Well, I know you’re almost finished with that book of Hecate that Sabrina gave you at Yule. If the baby isn’t here by next week, I think you should the extra time to really study, research, write your manifesto.”

“You’re serious about all this, aren’t you?”

“Completely,” Faustus said honestly.

Zelda pushed the now empty plate off her lap and stood up. She walked around the room, considering her husband’s words. Suddenly, she smiled when Zelda got an idea. She turned to Faustus.  “Alright, Faustus, I’ll do what you ask. I will study, I will write my manifesto, I ‘ll even go to Rome and speak with the council but in exchange, you will do something for me.”

“Dearest, I already pitched this as a 2nd honeymoon so of course, I’m coming with you.”

Zelda giggled.  “No, Faustus darling, I was thinking about something else.”

“Really? What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to take back your magic.”

Faustus’s smile immediately disappeared. “Oh Zelda, no.”

Zelda went back and crawled on the bed to take her husband’s hand.  “Faustus, you might think I’ve forgotten with all the chaos that went on around here lately. It’s been months since you asked the dark lord to take your powers away. If my memory serves me correctly, you wanted him to take your power because you didn’t want to hurt anyone. That was in early November and tomorrow is the 1st of March. In all that time, not only have you not harmed anyone, but you are the one who found the spell that saved Agatha.  Faustus, you’re a born warlock, we both know that denying magic is denying your own nature.”

Faustus sighed. “How would I even go about getting my powers back? Shall I go begging back to the dark lord?”

Zelda shook her head. “No, of course not.  Faustus, no one in our coven owes their powers to Lucifer anymore because everyone was rebaptized in the name of Hecate, or in the case of warlocks, the god Aeete, the husband of Hecate, who he himself is a 3 in 1, the lad, the father, and the old man. To regain your powers, you must be rebaptized too.”

“Well, can I think about it for a while?”

Zelda nodded. “Of course.”

Faustus smiled. “Good, because it is still our wedding night and all I want to do is focus on you.” Faustus turned his upper body to take something out of his nightstand. He turned back to Zelda, smiling and holding a long jewelry case. “Surprise!”

His wife gave him a tender look. “Faustus, thank you, but you need to stop this. You’re spoiling me!”

He gave a mock pout. “But it’s what I live for!” He opened the box and Zelda gasped. “Now I know it’s not much.”

“Not much?! There are Magda’s pearls!”

“What? How did you know- Oh, that’s right, the memory spell. Well then, I don’t have to tell you how special this gift is then. I could never bring myself to give them to Constance, seeing how we barely had a marriage. I would have given these to you last year after our 1st wedding but Blackwood wanted that stupid music box. I thought about giving these pearls to Prudence but I didn’t want her to think it was a bribe.”

“We’ll share it,” Zelda suggested, “and not just Prudence and I, but Letitia too and the new baby too, if she’s a girl.”

“So that all my girls can use the pearls. What a perfect idea!”

Zelda sighed. “This has been such a beautiful night, Faustus, but I’m afraid I have a craving even bigger than pearls and chocolate.”

“What can I get you, dearest?”

“I think it would be better if you guess my craving?”

Faustus wore a huge smile as Zelda gently pushed him down, unbuttoned his shirt before putting some whipped cream on his chest, and then licked it off. Instead of kissing him, Zelda smiled wickedly down at Faustus. “Can you guess what I want yet?”

“Oh, I have an idea.” He cupped her face. “But if I’m wrong, please don’t tell me.” Faustus moaned as he kissed Zelda deeply. They fell asleep in each other’s arms after their lovemaking.

 After a couple of hours later, Faustus awoke from a nightmare.  These nightmares had continued for months but at least, Faustus has learned not to wake Zelda up anymore. He studied her now, in the moonlight, naked, sleeping peacefully and wearing his wedding ring. As usual, she was glorious. He stroked her cheek and kissed her brow before he got up. Faustus went to the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face before he filled a glass and took a sip.

“Shame on you, Faustus!”

The sudden voice in the quiet night startled Faustus so much that he jumped, as he did, the glass slipped out of his hand and smashed on the floor.

“Damn!”

He picked up the glass and looked up to see the ghost of his 1st wife and she did not look happy.

“Constance?! What are you doing here?”

“Watching you making a fool out of yourself over that tramp, Zelda Spellman!”

Faustus immediately got defensive. “Zelda is not a tramp! She’s my wife! We’re finally married, as it always should have been!”

“She’s a tramp!” Constance insisted “and you’re even worse.  Falling all over her like a lovesick schoolboy. Wasting time on stupid things like that ridiculous vow renewal, befriending mortals, helping those weird sluts when you should be looking for our children!”

“I am trying everything I can think of to find the twins! What you’ll ask is impossible, especially when I don’t have magic. I mean, I can’t fix everything all at once.”

“Why not? You ruined everything all at once.” This comment was not made by Constance but Faustus did know the voice it did belong to. It made Faustus rolled his eyes and turned to see her seated on the bathroom counter.

“Shirley Jackson. Forgotten but not gone. To what do I owe this displeasure? No, never mind, I really don’t care. You 2 hens can cluck all night long. I’m going to bed.”

Faustus turned to left the bathroom but a 3rd ghost blocked the door. Faustus had to admit that the first 2 spirits had come as a surprise, a shock even but not the 3rd one. Looking at him now, Faustus wondered what had taken him so long. “Hello, Edward.”

“Hello, Faustus. How are you?

That was it. That simple question was all it took for the blood of Edward’s former mentor to boil.  “Better,” Faustus spat at Edward, “Much better, now that the, excuse me, your insanity curse, is no longer on me!” Faustus roughly pushed Edward out of his way and returned to his bedroom. He looked down at Zelda, she was still sleeping but something had changed.  Not only had Zelda turned around, but she must also have wakened when the glass broke because she had put her nightgown back on.  Faustus was still studying Zelda when Edward came up beside him.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Zelda? Your sister, my wife? Yes, she’s very beautiful.”

Edward looked at Faustus. “You don’t get it, do you? It’s obvious to everyone but you.”

“What is?”

“That Zelda doesn’t really love you.”

Faustus felt his hands ball up into fists. “Once again, it’s the world according to you, isn’t it, Edward? Of course, Zelda doesn’t love me, she just tells me she does all the time and seemed delighted at our vow renewal ceremony tonight but, of course, you know best, Edward.”

The other warlock shrugged. “All I’m saying is to look at the evidence. When I saw my sister in the neither realm last spring, she seemed completely in love with her new girlfriend, Tango Tanya.”

“It’s Mambo Marie.” Faustus corrected.

“Right. Well, I think it’s time for you to do the honorable, gentlemanly thing to do and step aside so that Zelda can be with who she loves.”

Frowning, Faustus shook his head. “You speak as if I tore them apart. I didn’t, if anything I tried to get them back together. I spoke with Mambo Marie and convinced her to set up a romantic lunch but a while later, Zelda told me she loved me and we have been together ever since.”

“But she had to come to you.”

“How do you figure that, Edward?”

“This is Zelda, we’re talking about and Zelda would do anything for her family, even give up her own happiness so that her baby can have its father. You didn’t capture my sister’s heart you just got her pregnant!”

Faustus was on fire with rage. “Now you haven’t just insulted me but Zelda as well! Plenty of strong women are single mothers or do co-parenting and Zelda is the strongest woman of all!”

Edward looked unsure. “Still, if you loved Zelda as much as you do, you would want her to be happy.”

“Why is it so impossible to think that Zelda’s happiness might be with me?” Faustus wanted to know.

“If it wasn’t for you, who knows? This wedding night could have belonged to Zelda and Mambo Marie.”

“Oh, shut up, Edward!”

Zelda stirred and moaned a little in her sleep. Faustus looked down at her and when he looked back up, Edward was gone. He looked toward the bathroom for Constance and Shirley, but they were gone too.  Sighing, Faustus got back in bed, turning to look at his wife.

“I don’t care what anyone says. You are my true love and my happy place.”

Yes, but am I hers? Faustus quickly dismissed the bothersome thought and cursed Edward for putting it there.

 “You see, Zelds? Nothing really needs to change.”

It was a beautiful March afternoon and Hilda took Zelda out to lunch to celebrate the official start of Zelda’s maternity leave. Meanwhile, it had been a week since the labor false alarm and so far, there was no sign of the baby. During the lunch, the sisters talked a lot about turning their old room into the nursery. Right now, they were walking toward a paint store to look at some samples.

Zelda wore a teasing smile.  “I’m still getting over the fact that you completely moved out of the house.”

Hilda sighed. “Not this again, Zelda! I had to move out, I’m married now.”

“Oh Hildie, don’t blame marriage, I’m married and I still live at home.”

“Well, maybe that’s why I moved, there’s no more bloody room!” Hilda stated and then stormed into the shop.

“Hilda, come on, don’t be like that. I was just kidding!” Zelda was about to step into the shop herself but then she noticed Faustus was the other street. Before she could call out or wave him over, Zelda realized that her husband wasn’t alone. He was in the company of a slim, strikingly beautiful blonde.

“Zelda?” Hilda called out. “What’s keeping you?”

“I’m coming,” Zelda disappeared into the store before Faustus could see her.

 Although Faustus had yet to decide about his baptism, Zelda decided to go ahead and start studying so she could write her manifesto. When they were told about it, the family was all for it. Since he was working most days at the academy’s library, Ambrose offered up his attic so that his aunt would have a quiet place to work during the day. It was in the attic that Faustus found her 1 afternoon in mid-March. He came bearing a tray that had tea and sugar cookies.

“Hi, I thought you could use a break.”

Zelda put down her pen. “I suppose I could.” Faustus gave her a cup. “Thank you.”

“So, how’s it going?” He asked her.

“Well, I now know why the church of night bans most of these readings. According to Hecate, love is not a sin, it’s not even wrong. Love is a right and natural emotion as well as everything that goes with it, like lovemaking, is perfectly normal.”

“So, all these years of loving you, all the shame and guilt I was made to feel, was all for nothing?”

“Afraid so, Faustus.”

Faustus leaned down and kissed Zelda.  “Oh well. Good to know.”

With 1 more sip, Zelda finished her tea so she placed the cup and saucer back on the tray. After taking a bite of a sugar cookie, Zelda picked up her pen and went back to her notes. While she did that, Faustus placed the cookie dish beside her and picked up the tray.

Just leave now! Faustus’s head screamed but he found himself turning back and his mouth formed the question that had been bugging him for weeks. “Zelda? Are you happy with your life with me?”

His wife looked up and gave him a genuine smile that told him even more then her words did.  “Of course, I’m happy, darling, I love you.”

Faustus smiled. “I love you too, Zelda dearest.” He got to the door before Zelda called out.

“Faustus, are you happy with me?” She asked.

He answered her honestly. “I’ve never been happier. Aside from Blackwood and the twins, life is pretty much perfect.”

 When Faustus got downstairs, he was not at all pleased to see all 3 ghosts waiting for him in the kitchen. For the last 2 and a half weeks, Edward, Constance and Shirley were popping up and disappearing everywhere while Faustus was just trying to live his daily life. He was getting sick and tired of seeing them. Faustus threw the tray down on the island and it made a loud sound.

“If you 3 stooges have something important to say for once, spit it out, will you? Hilda will be here soon to give me my cooking lesson.”

Constance scoffed. “Do you even hear yourself anymore, Faustus? No magic?  Cooking lessons? Your father would be ashamed of you!”

“Good!” Faustus spat.  “The more distance I can put between me and that old bastard the better!  Why are you staring at me for, Edward?” Faustus demanded.

“What are you still doing here?” Asked Edward.

“Easy, I live here,” Faustus said shortly.

“But I told you, Zelda is in love with Mambo Marie.”

“Yes, you did, but you see Edward, I don’t believe you. What you seem to keep forgetting is that I myself, have been in love with Zelda since I was 16 and in all those years, I have learned to read her. Heaven, I probably know Zelda’s face better than she does. In all these months, never once did I sense that Zelda wasn’t happy or wanted to be with someone else. She hasn’t talked to or probably had contact with Mambo Marie in months.”

“Look down.”

Faustus was looking down in a pot of boiling water. In the water, Faustus saw a vision of Zelda’s desk and on the desk was a piece of paper containing Mambo Marie’s change of address and new phone number.

“Still think Zelda and her girlfriend aren’t together?” Edward smirked.

“How do I know you didn’t put that there?”

“You don’t belong here!” Edward replied.

“Edward’s right,” agreed Constance. “You should leave here, never come back and go find the twins.”

“So, you want me to abandon 2 of my children to find my 2 other children. Oh yeah, that makes sense. Besides, you’re a ghost, you can go places I can’t possibly go to. So, why don’t you go find our children, Constance and report back to tell me where they are?”

“Like you even care,” Shirley butted in. “You’re so obsessed with Zelda; you don’t care about anything else.”

“But obsession is not love,” Added Edward. “That’s why he doesn’t even care about Zelda’s happiness.”

“You’re wrong! You’re all wrong!” Faustus barked. “I love my children, all 4 of my children! I also love Zelda. I love Zelda so much that if I thought I was a threat to her happiness in any way”

“You would leave her?” Edward asked, much too quickly.

Faustus nodded. “Yes, I would leave her.”

“Wonderful.”

“But I will only go when Zelda tells me that she wants to be with someone else and not a second before!”

“Was it all worth it?” Asked Shirley.

Faustus sighed. “Was what all worth it, Sister Jackson?”

“Oh, come on, Faustus, don’t tell me you never thought about it. This insanity curse, the source of all your pain, all your troubles, never would have happened if you hadn’t pursued her if you hadn’t married Zelda. If you had married someone else, like for example, me.”

Faustus couldn’t help but laugh.  “Marry you?!  I don’t even like you!”

“But you slept with me!”

“So what? I was a slut back then, I slept with everyone! 2 nights of sex does not make you my true love!”

“It was 3 times!” Shirley shouted. “We had sex 3 times!”

“I know!” Faustus shouted back. “But the 1st time wasn’t worth mentioning!  It’s a moot point anyway because Zelda didn’t cause the curse. He did!” Faustus pointed at Edward. “You haven’t changed at all have you, Edward Spellman? You still expect others to clean up the messes that you made!”

“What do you mean?”

“What do I mean? I was in love with your sister and you denied me her every chance you got. Then you met Diana, your feelings were so much more important than mine or even Zelda’s. So, you married Diana, you got the woman you loved but I got the punishment. Constance, you want to take to task for not knowing where our twins are? Well, I believe if it wasn’t for Edward here, I see no reason why our children wouldn’t be happy plump 1-year-olds toddling all over this house. The same thing with Sabrina, you had to have a child so you made a deal with Lucifer, but you failed to tell your sisters, the 2 women who raised Sabrina.”

“You’re avoiding my question,” Shirley stated. “If you had known about the curse, would you have still married Zelda?”

“If the outcome would be the same, then yes.”

“Really,” sneered Constance “so you enjoy that our children are with a madman.”

“Did I say that? Don’t put words in my mouth! I hate that!”

“Faustus? Who are you talking to?”

He turned to a puzzled Hilda then turned back to see that the ghosts were gone. He sighed. “Nobody.”

 Early the next week, Hilda stood in the middle of the new nursey, viewing different baby furniture with the snap of a finger when she heard the front door slam and stomping on the stairs.

“What’s wrong, Zelds?”    Hilda asked as her sister went by.

“What are you doing here, Hilda?”

“Waiting for you. Today’s your last weekly appointment before the baby comes.”

Zelda sighed. “Okay then, let’s get this over with then” Zelda took off her coat and lead her sister to her bedroom.

“Well?” Zelda asked 20 minutes later.

“Fine. Fine.  Baby’s nice and healthy.” Hilda was smiling however; her sister was not.

“Has it dropped? Has the baby lowered?”

“Well, no, not yet.”  Zelda groaned, but Hilda continued, “It’s all normal, Zelds! You know that 1st babies are almost always late.”

“This 1 will definitely be late, seeing how I’m due tomorrow!”

“Okay, Zelda, what’s wrong? You’re so grumpy today.”

“Oh, I’m on top of the world, Hilda. I’m about 1000 years pregnant, this baby seems to be going nowhere fast and I’m pretty sure that my husband is in bed with another woman right now!”

Hilda was expecting the first 2 complains but the 3rd one threw her off. “What?!”

“I was at the bookstore because I was excited to show Faustus the 1st rough draft of my manifesto.”

“But Faustus doesn’t work on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons.”

Zelda nodded. “A fun fact is known to everyone but me, apparently. Plus, remember 2 weeks ago when went out to lunch and then to the paint shop?”

“Yes.”

“That was the day I saw Faustus on the street with a strange woman.”

Hilda then got an idea.  “The redhead? I saw him talking with her a few times. She’s no threat.”

Zelda looked at her sister. “The woman I saw was a blond! Well, there we have it, 2 afternoons Faustus isn’t accounted for, 2 strange women and a man who doesn’t believe in monogamy. Doesn’t take a scientist to figure this out.”

“What did he say when you confronted him?” Hilda wanted to know.

“Nothing, because I didn’t and I’m not going to. That was Constance’s mistake and he grew to hate her.”

“But if he’s making love to other women.”

“It’s not making love, it’s just sex,” Zelda insisted. “I’m his true love and we’re very happy together. That’s all that matters.”

“How can you be happy if this is bothering you?”

“Who says that this is bothering me? This is not bothering me.” Zelda said in a tone that left no doubt in   Hilda’s mind that her sister was very bothered.

 The following night, Faustus was toweling off his hair after a shower when he walked into his bedroom and saw all 3 ghosts waiting for him.

“Oh, Hecate, not again! Why don’t you 3 get an afterlife so I can get on with mine? I’m getting mighty sick of this!”

“Then how about this?” Asked Edward “We’ll leave when you leave.”

“As I said on your last visit, I’m not leaving!”

“So, you rather stay on in this fake marriage. Clinging to a woman who allowed you back into her life because of pity for her unborn child than actual love.”

“This is not a fake marriage!” Faustus snapped. “I love Zelda enough for both of us!”

“You should! You put her ahead of your own children.”

Faustus rolled his eyes and turned to face the ghost of his 1st wife. “How many times must I say this Constance? I’m doing everything I possibly can to find our twins.”

“Why don’t you just face it, Faustus?” Edward sneered. “No one wants you here.”

“I can’t believe I going to say this, Edward, but thank you.”

“Thank me? For what?”

Faustus shrugged. “The curse. You see, all my life, I have lived in fear of 1 thing, becoming my father. Yet as hard as I tried, I have found myself slipping into his old habits. I will never forget the innocent people I hurt or the guilt I live with every single day but recently I thought that maybe, just maybe that curse forced me to become the monster I always feared. In other words, your curse forced me to hit rock bottom a lot faster than had I been left to my own devices. In a very odd, very messed up way, you helped me because after hitting rock bottom, there’s nowhere to go but up. Now, I’m becoming the man I want to be. A man that a proud noble family, like the Spellmans, are willing to claim as their own. A man, that for whatever reason, Zelda wants by her side. How can I not thank you for that?”

“I think you should take that thank you, Edward. It probably the nicest thing someone will say to you all night.”

All 4 turned toward the doorway and saw an annoyed Zelda, who had her arms crossed. “What are you even doing here Edward? The last time we talked, I honestly told I didn’t know if I ever wanted to see you again and now, I find you in my bedroom trying to convince my husband to leave me on my due date? Are you serious?”

“I’m only thinking about your happiness, sister,” Edward defended himself. “But Faustus here can’t seem to get it through his thick head that you’re really in love with Mambo Marie.”

Zelda cocked her eyebrow. “Me? In love with Mambo Marie? Well, let’s see. In the past year that I met Mambo Marie, we’ve shared a few kisses, never went to bed together, fought a lot, broke up twice, once after she gave me an abortion potion, threatened to leave if I left during a lunch date and then did and hadn’t seen her in months. On the other hand, in the last year alone, I married Faustus twice, made a child together, worked hard to undo your curse, prevented his suicide, and told him I loved him. We’ve only grown stronger and closer together ever since. Heavens Edward, I even told you I loved him after swallowing a piece of truth cake!”

“You did?!” Faustus asked. “Edward didn’t mention that at all.”

Zelda frowned. “You don’t say.”

“What about the change of address for Mambo Marie that is still on your desk at the academy?” Asked Edward.

“I was supposed to give to Prudence, seeing how close they became. The fact that I completely forgot about it for a month and a half should tell you how much Mambo Marie crosses my mind.” Zelda replied.

Constance stepped up next up to Edward. “See?   I told you she wasn’t the problem, he is!” She looked at Zelda. “Did you think you were special? Did you really believe he loved you? Karma’s a bitch, isn’t it, Zelda Spellman? You didn’t give me a 2nd thought as you bedded my husband when I was pregnant and now the same thing is happening to you.”

“Shut up, Constance!” Zelda ordered.

Faustus looked confused. “What is she talking about?”

Zelda only smiled. “Nothing, nothing at all.”

Yet Constance continued. “She knows, Faustus.  She knows all about how you don’t work on Tuesday or Thursday afternoons. She even caught you on the street with your mistress!”

“Constance! I said to shut up!”  Zelda growled.

“Mistress? You think I’m cheating on Zelda?!” Faustus asked, dazed.

“Well of course!” Edward spat. “Everyone, even my sister, knows that you can never be faithful to just 1 woman. It’s just not in your nature and even you can’t blame the curse for everything.”

Faustus said nothing, just stalked out of the room.

“No!” Zelda called out and rushed to the doorway, hot tears in her eyes. “Faustus, please! Please come back!”

Edward grabbed his sister by the arm. “Let him go. It’s no big loss.”

Zelda quickly shook free of her brother. “What did I ever do to you, my own brother, to make you hate me so much?”

“I don’t hate you.” Edward sounded hurt. “I did this to help you. Zelda, your marriage is”

“None of your business!” Snapped his sister. Then she advanced to Constance, “nor is it yours,” she said before going to Shirley, “and it’s definitely not yours! What are you even doing here, Shirley? You butted in so much in life that you have to continue to do so in death?”

“Why are you angry with us?” Edward asked. “Now you can be with Mambo Marie.”

“I don’t want to be with Mambo Marie! I want my husband! I love Faustus. I love him with all my heart and now it may too late.” Zelda sat down, hung her head, and started to sob.

“Don’t cry, dearest.” Faustus was back in the room.

“What are you doing back here?” Edward demanded. “We thought you left, for good!”

Faustus couldn’t help but laugh.  “What?! It will take a long more than 3 clueless ghosts to make me leave my wife and unborn child.”

“Then where did you just go?”

“You want to play judge, jury and executor, Edward? That’s fine by me but what would the use of defending myself if you think I’ll only lie so I ran downstairs to the kitchen to grab this!”

Edward raised an eyebrow. “A bag of cookies?”

“Not just any cookies, truth cookies! I know it’s supposed to be a truth cake but that’s too complex for me to make but I made sure Hilda showed me the same recipe.”

“Don’t eat it, Faustus,” Zelda advised. “You don’t owe them anything.”

“No, I don’t, but I owe you everything. Plus, I have nothing to hide.” Faustus made a show of eating not 1 truth cookie, but 2. “Now, where were we?”

“We were talking about you cheating on my sister.” Muttered Edward.

“Oh yes. Well, the truth is that I’ve never cheated on Zelda. Not even last year after starting our affair and when my-then wife was in a very rare mood. I turned down Constance, not Zelda. Nor did I cheat on the night after Zelda and I announced our engagement and this one” he pointed to Shirley, “sneaked unwanted and uninvited into my bed-chamber, bare-ass naked. Not even when we were young and we would enjoy threesome and foursome together.”

“Then where are you every Tuesday and Thursday?” Asked Edward.

Faustus lowered his eyes. “I rather not say.”

“Because you were in bed with a hot blonde?” Constance smiled and Zelda had the sudden urge to rip her apart.

“Not in bed, in therapy!” Faustus declared and it felt like all the air was sucked out of the room.

“Therapy? But you don’t believe in it, you said it was only for the weak.” Constance made the statement but both his wives knew this to be true.

“More of my father’s bull. I had to get over it and ask for help to tame my inner demons. Like you said Edward, I can’t blame it all on the curse.”

“But 2 therapists?” Questioned Shirley. “Who’s that screwed up?”

“That is enough!”  Zelda frowned.

“I only saw the redhead twice,” Faustus explained. “She was mortal and I didn’t see the point if I had to censor myself.”

“I said enough!” The pregnant witch shouted and got off the bed to face the 3 ghosts. “Faustus may not have the power to banish you but I do!” Zelda spoke quickly in Latin and then all 3 ghosts were lined up at the room’s threshold with 3 lit candles at their feet. Zelda came forward, a bottle in her hand. “For those of you in need of a quick recap, this is black salt. In my mind’s eye, I already poured it before the front door. Now, all I need to do is pour the salt before you and blow out the candles, and never again will any of you be able to enter this house until expressly invited. Constance, I promise you that we will find your children and I raise them as if they were my very own.” Zelda then poured the salt and blew out the candles. When the ghosts were gone, Zelda turned back to her husband. “Therapy, really?”

Faustus chuckled. “Is that so hard to believe rather than me cheating on you?”

“Forgive me, darling, but yes. You told me that you don’t believe in monogamy.”

“I was playing it cool. I wasn’t going to say that I used to dream about you all the time when we were apart and that I’d never been with a woman without thinking about you in some way, shape, or form. It would of freak you out.”

“I don’t know about that.” As they kissed and hugged, a grandfather clock chimed 12. Zelda sighed.  “Midnight, my due date came and went. This baby is officially late.”

 “Gooooooood morning Greendale! It’s 7:05 on this beautiful April Fools morning. This freak heatwave we’re having continues, making this a great day to spend at the beach. Can you believe this, Mike?  April 1st and we’re already talking beach weather.”

Mike didn’t get a chance to answer because Zelda slammed off the clock radio before she turned around in bed. “Why did you set the alarm for 7? It’s Saturday.” Zelda asked Faustus sleepily.

“I’m sorry, dearest. I need to be in town by 8:30. Dr. C and I are doing inventory at the bookstore today.”

The couple got up, dressed, and went downstairs for breakfast. Yet in the kitchen, there was only Sabrina, for Ambrose had already left for the academy. When it came up that Sabrina planned to spend most of the day with her friends, leaving Zelda alone in the house which made Faustus question his decision to go out at all.

“Don’t be silly, darling. I probably just be where I always am lately, up in the attic, working on my manifesto. I mean, you’ve been watching me like a hawk for the past 10 days and nothing. I’m not going to go into labor the moment you leave. This is real life, Faustus, not a television show.”

 The forecast was right. Although it was only April, it felt more like August. So, Sabrina and her friends spent the beach. At a little after 3, it began to rain, by 4, it was pouring, winds were going wild, complete with thunder and lighting.  The plan was just to drop Theo off first but by the time they got to the farm, the storm was so wild, it wasn’t safe to drive so Sabrina, Roz and Harvey agreed to stay with Theo and his dad. Meanwhile, the all-day inventory at the bookstore was going well. Faustus got distracted when he saw that the storm had started. His first worry was, of course, for Zelda. But Dr. C still needed him at the store so Hilda agreed to teleport to the house to check on her sister. Zelda was fine but she had been working all day so Hilda persuaded Zelda to take a break. It was after 6 when the sisters sat down to a little snack of coffee and cake. They were just finishing up when they heard a thunderclap and then all the lights in the house went out all at once.

Hilda looked up. “Oh, okay. Looks like we have a blackout.” Both sisters got up from the table and Hilda went to a drawer that held flashlights. She got 1 out for herself and then handed 1 to Zelda. “How about I get the candles from upstairs and you get the ones downstairs?”

Zelda nodded and as Hilda headed upstairs, Zelda went to the closet where she knew a box of candles were waiting. Then she made her way down to the morgue and went to Ambrose’s little cubby hole of an office but frowned when she couldn’t find any candles, Ambrose must have moved them. Zelda turned and scanned the room with her flashlight and found the candles on a high shelf. Zelda went to the shelf, stood on her tiptoes, and stretched out her arm to reach the candles. Zelda gasped in shock when she felt and heard the splash.

“Zelds?” Hilda called out. “Zelds, are you down here?” Hilda saw her sister and stepped in water. “Oh no. Don’t tell me we have another flooding problem!”

“No, it’s not a flooding problem, Hilda. My water just broke!”

“What?”

Zelda nodded. “Yes. OW!”

That all it took for Hilda to go into full mid-wife mode. She took Zelda’s hand in hers and put her arm around Zelda’s waist. “Let get you upstairs.”

Once the sisters got to the main floor, the phone rang. At her sister’s urging, Hilda answered the call, while Zelda started up the stairs. She rolled her eyes as Hilda told the caller, Dr. C, that Zelda was labor.

“Sister!” Zelda whispered furiously. “You be sure to tell your husband that he cannot tell Faustus that I’m in labor!”

Hilda covered the phone with her hand. “What? Why?”

“Are you kidding?! He didn’t even want to leave this morning because of the very thought of me in labor. If he learns that I’m actually having the baby, he’ll want to come home now despite how dangerous the storm is getting.”

“Right,” Hilda and Dr. C talked a little more and she learned that blackout was happening all over town. Hilda hung up and ran upstairs and into Zelda’s room. She was amazed to see that the room was ready and prepped. There was water, fresh towels, and the medical items lined up perfectly. Zelda had changed into her nightgown and was only now getting into bed. Smiling, Hilda went to help her sister. She was glad she wasn’t the only mid-wife at this delivery.

 Sabrina and her friends spent all night at the farm. After supper and setting up the candles, Theo’s dad went to bed and the kids were hovering around Theo’s laptop, watching horror movies.

 “Well, all the girls are finally asleep.”

It was midnight at the Academy of Unseen Arts.  Prudence, lantern in hand, entered the head office and flopped down on the sofa, next to Ambrose.

“The boys are, as well.”  They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments yet Ambrose sensed something was off. “Are you okay, Prudence? You seem a little…tense.”

“I’m fine.”

But it was when he watched Prudence during the next thunderclap that Ambrose got a fun idea.  “Prudence Night, if I didn’t know better, I would say you’re afraid of thunder and lightning.”

“Nonsense!” Then the next round of lighting sent a jumpy Prudence right into Ambrose’s arms. After staring at each other for a second, they began making out. Soon, they were upstairs, making love in 1 of the academy’s private bedrooms. As Prudence screamed in pleasure, Sabrina screamed in fear because of the movie and Zelda screamed in pain as the baby made it’s through her body.

At 1, Faustus looked out onto the town street. He watched as the lightning struck the power lines and a live wire hit the wet road.

“I can’t believe we got this whole store in order in a day! We definitely earned these.” Dr. C handed Faustus 1 of the 2 beers he was holding and the 2 men clinked the glasses in a toast.

“Do you think Zelda’s okay?” asked a worried Faustus.

“Zelda’s fine. She with Hilda, remember?”

“Dr. C, I know I just sound like an overprotective husband that been bugging you all night but the truth is I’m terrified. I want this baby as much as Zelda does, truly I do. But in the back of my mind, I can’t forget that both women, before Zelda, who bore my children, have both died within 24 hours of giving birth.”

“I -I didn’t know that.”

“Why did you just turn so pale?”

Dr.  C sighed. “I’m not supposed to tell you this but Zelda is actually in labor right now.”

“What?! How do you know?”

“Hilda told me when I called her when the blackout started.”

“But that was hours ago! I got to go.”

“Faustus, wait!”

 Zelda had had enough! She had been in labor since 6 and had been pushing since midnight. 2 hours later, still nothing.

“Okay Zelds, 1 more push!”

Zelda shook her head. “No, Hildie, I can’t, I’m exhausted.”

“But sister, you’re there.” Hilda took Zelda’s hand and guided it low. “Feel that? It’s the head, it’s crowning. 1 more push, Zelda,  and we’re done, I promise. Just give me all you have.” 

Zelda screamed as she so, and as she collapsed onto her pillow, she heard her baby cry.

“It’s a girl!” Hilda announced with a smile. “Baby girl Spellman, born at 2:08 AM on April 2nd,” A tree branch slammed against the window, making Hilda forget to say the year. “She already has a full head of red hair, just like you.” Hilda passed the baby to Zelda.

“She’s perfect,” Declared her mother, “Hilda? Is it me or is she wheezy a bit?”

“Oh, I think I forgot to suction out her nose and I left the pump in the kitchen. No problem, come with your Auntie Hilda, my darling.”

Down to the kitchen, they went, and just as Hilda finished checking and cleaning the baby, she heard the front door open and closed. Hilda stepped out into the hall and smiled. “Hello, Faustus, I’m glad you’re home safely. Zelda’s upstairs and I’ll be right up.”

Back in the kitchen, Hilda called Dr. C. “I’m not mad that you told Faustus about Zelda, love. I just called to tell you that somehow he got home safe.”

“Um, Hilda, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Yes, I told Faustus about Zelda but I managed to calm him down and convince him to stay here. In fact, I’m looking at him right now.”

 “Then who? Oh, Hecate!” Hilda slammed down the phone and ran for the stairs but before she got there, she heard Zelda scream. Hilda forced herself to run back to the kitchen and to the table where the baby lay in her Moses basket. Hilda touched the tiny hand.

“Precious babe, please be as silent as the grave.” Hilda put the basket on a chair and gently pushed it in so that the basket could not be seen. A moment later, Hilda saw Blackwood on the other side of the kitchen, dripping in Zelda’s blood. “You’re not welcome here!”

“Like I care!” Blackwood hissed. “But I must say, I am disappointed. I created this storm so that all you Spellmans would be here, but only you and Zelda are home. Speaking of Zelda, I had no idea she gave birth tonight until I got into her room. Where is the baby?”

“Stillborn.” Hilda lied.

“So, killing Zelda was a kindness, to reunite her with the child. Looks like there’s only 1 more Spellman for me to kill tonight.” He raised his arm and in a spilt second, every knife in the room was pointed at Hilda.

She, however, only smiled. “You forget, dearie, that this was my kitchen for many, many years. Every sharp object is spelled not to hurt me. In fact, they’re antispelled to hurt the attacker.” Just like that, the knives turned on Blackwood.

“You cannot kill me,” he reminded her.

“Kill? No, but let’s see if you can bleed.” Hilda only raised a finger and then a knife slid into Blackwood’s cheek. He reacted in pain and indeed he bled.

“A mere scratch,” Hilda dismissed. “But if you don’t leave this house right now, I’ll cut you to ribbons and cause you so much pain you’ll wish you were dead.”

Hilda and her knives escorted Blackwood to the front door. She was still watching him when he stepped onto the road and got hit by lightning. Hilda smiled. “Well, that will leave a bruise.”

[elycwinters]

Spy Games 2

Fandom: Original Fiction Prompt: From Fictober-Event. #31. “I trust you”  Words: 1001 Previous Chapter

Maximilian stared at the woman sitting in front of him, tall, curvaceous blonde with smokey gray eyes, and pale, so very pale, she seemed made of porcelain, Celine LeBeau (he doubted that that was her actual name) seemed to be completely calm and zen. Not even her eyes betrayed nothing.

Now he understood why the called her ‘The Master’.

He watched as Celine lifted the tea mug, blew on the surface of the liquid and took a careful sip, the steam floating from the mug betraying the tea’s temperature. Her nose scrunched up a bit, “I need more honey.” She spoke softly, as if this meeting was a completely one between two friends.

He tapped the table with his pen, he’d been scribbling when she had sat down and ordered a tea without so much with a ‘by your leave’. And as soon as the waiter was out of ear shot, she’d drawn closer and with a smile that betrayed nothing, said, “Someone blew your cover, you need to return to France today. Plans are being made for you to be gone,” the way she said gone, told him everything he needed to know. “And soon, you have at most a week.”

Then she sat back, and watched him impassively as he said nothing. He’d been thankful for his years as a spy, that his face did not move beyond a smile that was meant to be friendly and welcoming for the beautiful woman sitting in front of him. “I see.” He managed. Looked away, saw some birds fly by and concentrated on the sounds of the café they were sitting on. The waiting returning with Celine’s tea brought him back to her. “What if I told you,” he started, drank more coffee, he needed the caffeine now more than ever. “That I don’t trust you.”

No one really knew that woman. She answered to few, and those few were not known among the people he moved in, much less the agency he worked for. Why should he trust someone he knew only intervened when she saw fit? Her actions didn’t made any sense to him. But perhaps they weren’t meant to.

Celine smiled. “Then you’d be gone and that’s it.”

How easy it was for her to speak of his death, here in this café. The sun was shinning, there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky, Spring had arrived and flowers decorated windowsills and planters. People smiled, laughed and held hands. Such a grim fate to be discussed in this weather. “Why tell me?”

Celine took another sip of her tea, then set her mug down and tapped her fingers on the table, the universal sign for impatience – he wasn’t about to think of her being nervous, why would she be? “Because I was too,” another sip of tea. “Someone high up sold some of us, I only saw four names on the list. Yours, Magda, Polux and mine. I’m sure there are more, but I was only able to find those. Someone’s hunting us down, Maximilian.”

That gave him pause, she had been betrayed? That made a shiver run down his spine. If someone was indeed hunting them down… that didn’t bode well. He felt torn, he had spent years in the spy game. He knew the risks every time he went on a mission. But being hunted for sport, that was something else entirely. “How did you find out? The names.”

Celine eyed his slice of cheesecake, he pushed it towards her, not hungry anymore. She took it, but drew closer once more, her voice barely above a whisper. “Because someone managed to shot at me. My location was confidential, only three people knew where I was. Two of them are dead, one is hiding and I can’t find them. I always can. Went through their things, found some interesting things and one thing led to another and I found the list, hidden so well, it anyone else might have missed it.” She gave him a cocky grin. “But I am not ‘The Master’ for anything.” She then bit into the cheesecake.

Celine was ten years younger than he was, he knew that because of her looks. It was easy to see that she was early thirties. He had twenty years on her, and yet… he sighed. “And you’re completely sure.”

Celine washed down the cheesecake with more tea. She arched her eyebrow and gave him a look that said, ‘Yes, you imbecile.’ Out loud, she said, “Afraid so. So, either, you trust me and get the hell out of here and live or…” she knew that he understood what she meant to say. “I have something, a secure way to communicate, Magda is safe already, it’s just you and Polux I had to warn yet. I’ll give you the memo later.”

He stared at Celine, looking deep into her gray eyes. They were solemn, calm, almost too calm. Her face betrayed nothing, a friendly smile that didn’t reach her eyes, her left hand holding onto her purse and her right currently rested on the table. Then, he said what he never expected to say. “I trust you.”

Celine smiled at him. “Good, meet me tomorrow at Cineplex at noon. Don’t be late darling.” She stood, pulled a couple of bills from her purse and set them on the table before he could wave her off and then, with one last smile, she was gone.

He stared at Celine’s retreating back until she turned left and disappeared. He hated to admit it, but he had known something was strange and unusual, his gut had been screaming at him. But on the surface and even when he pushed a bit, everything looked to be fine. Too calm. Well now, he hoped that Celine was truly as good as they all claimed.

He finished his coffee, asked for the bill and left her money there as a tip. Life was going to be very interesting the coming days.

[cocoisbestgirl]

Fanfic I can’t think of a name for pt 12

“Ah, Miss Magda how have you been! It must be exhausting having to hide!” Kelly said smiling as she walked beside Magda.

“Well, ah..kinda. I’ve been very nervous recently..”

“Oh! What for, tell me!”

“I’m sure you already know of me getting poisoned?”

“Absolutely! It was the talk of the nobility for weeks! Really it was the only gossip…”

“I’m afraid it’ll happen again… that’s why I’ve been hiding with Alan for so long.. I don’t go anywhere without a guard now.”

“You have been spending so much time around that Alan boy, anything between you two? I promise not to tell a soul!”

“There’s barely anybody here in the first place, Kelly. Every time I go to a ball I see fewer and fewer faces. I don’t think I’ve seen Lynna in a good month.”

“You can’t stand her either? Good, now don’t dodge questions!”

“Well, I...I... Kelly can we please switch the conversation!”

“Absolutely not! I’m finally getting somewhere! With nobody around it’s hard to find anything to talk about!”

“Well, I made this dress myself all the merchants that-”

“Gahhh! Magda! Please. I am near begging you! I feel like I’m going through withdrawal.”

“Well, the merchants that I buy from have all fled.”

“Ah! Now that’s a conversation!”

“I can barely buy my dressmaking supplies anymore.. Every time I find a merchant it’s always from another kingdom. Trying to get supplies from there to here is really expensive. It’s less expensive to just buy dresses and destroy them for supplies. I had to Frankenstein this dress.”

“It. Looks. FANTASTIC! Oh, I would’ve never noticed it if you didn’t say anything! I mean I still don’t! Where did you learn to sew?”

“Well, when I used to live in the slums, I worked for a woman who made dresses for a good bit of my life. Every day I would wake up, sew, sew, sew until I was allowed to sleep. She...wasn’t the kindest woman. I didn’t get paid a cent for my work.”

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“I pay for your food and shelter! You don’t need money!”

Magda looked down at her aching hands and looked back up.

“But Ms.Eve I’ve worked here for over 8 years! I’ve brought in so much money!”

“And I gave you one of the most important life skills! I am not arguing about this anymore, Magda! One more word and you’re sleeping outside again! Now,” Ms. Eve put down a stack of fabrics on the table, “This fabric is cheap, only use it for simple gowns and decor for more impressive dresses! Also for that little stunt, you’ll work all night! I’ll be up in a few hours and you better have something at least halfway decent.”

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“That sounds horrible! What a wicked woman..”

“Actually she was nice to me considering she could’ve been so much worse to an orphan like me... She fed me, that’s more than a lot of my friends could have said. I managed fine. I only went to become a maid so that I could actually earn money for myself. But I had a bed and food. That’s all one really needs.”

“To survive! Not to live! Oh, Magda, you must have suffered so much!”

“It was better than dying cold on the streets.”

“Not by much..” Kelly murmured to herself

Magda looked around the garden where she and Kelly were in. Just a month ago it would have been swamped with dancing nobles, and helpful servants. Now, there was scarcely anybody, there couldn’t have been more than 3 servants, and 10 nobles including Magda and Kelly. It just felt empty. The whole scene felt off. Magda barely even saw her ‘sister’ anymore. After Magda started living with Alan, Felicity’s visits stopped. Even Eliza, while not exactly happy with it, was fine with Magda being constantly protected by Alan. Even her visits were sparse.

Magda was indescribably happy with Alan. She loved that boy with all of her heart, but there was an Ellenstein shaped hole in that same heart. 

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“Mom ...what's going on? You usually don’t let me skip balls.” Felicity looked through the windows which, for once, were not covered by the curtains.

“Ah...you just looked tired, you need beauty sleep just as much as any other girl.” Eliza looked over at Felicity as she sipped a bit of tea down.

“This doesn’t have to do with Magda does it?”

“Of course not. Why would it? Magda is what brought our family to glory.”

“Then what is this all about!? I want to know! I haven’t been outside in days! I’m gonna go insane here!”

“I’m going to find you a guard. To protect you before I let you go out again.”

“Why!? Stop dodging my questions! You keep avoiding the answer! Why why why!?”

Eliza stayed perfectly calm, “Felicity, go to your room.”

“Or what? You’re gonna lock me away? You’ve been doing that for days!”

“Magda’s attack made me realize Finsel is not as safe as I’d want it to be. I want you to be safe.”

“You haven’t even let me see Magda!”

“Because I have nobody to guard you, please. I just want to protect you.”

“Mother, this isn’t protecting me. You’re leaving Magda out to die and locking me away? Why couldn’t Alan just stay here with us?”

“He never asked.”

“He never should have had to! If you wanted to protect me you should’ve let Magda AND Alan stay! All you’re doing is making me insane!”

“I know this must be a stressful time, Felicity...I really do love you. I want to keep you safe..”

“By keeping me imprisoned here!?”

“Felicity, please...just go to your room.”

“Not until I get out of here! For once in my life, I’ve been obedient to you! I know you’re worried about me but I need to get out!”

Eliza looked down at the ground and put her teacup on a table nearby. 

“I’m scared Felicity. I'm so scared…”

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“I can’t even imagine that, Magda..” Alan wrapped his arms around Magda and pulled her close.

“I survived.” Magda pulled the blanket up to her neck, “It wasn’t that bad. It could’ve been a lot worse. Anyway..any news?”

“No, I’m still not sure what’s going on. Shana and her folks are ...well none of my guardsmen can figure out what's going on. We’re trying our best, I swear! The only lead we have is your attack, and we can’t even prove if that was involved with Shana or not... So we couldn’t make an arrest even if we did find her.”

“What about conspiracy, treason? You can arrest her for that right?”

Alan shook his head, “We don’t have proof of anything. We can give testimonies, yeah. Other than that we have little to nothing on Shana. You heard one of her speeches, and I’ve had so many people come to me and tell me about Shana. There...isn’t anything we can do. I-I feel so helpless…”

“Every ball I’ve gone to has been dead. Barely anybody there.”

“Magda...can you promise me something?”

“When you go to those balls, be extra safe. If you even feel slightly worried I want you to leave.”

“Mmph….That’s…..of course. I promise.”

“Good….good…”

“Alan?”

“Yes?”

 “I-I don’t think I’m tired just yet~”

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The next ball Magda went to was nearly completely silent, it was only her, Kelly, and Motiti. 

“I invited so many more people….they aren’t here...again..” Kelly whimpered as she sunk down in her chair. Kelly was wearing her favorite tea dress which was a light purple ,and like most things Kelly owned, was covered with ribbons.

“Don’t worry! Motiti will get you some pie!” The small oren girl ran over to the banquet table to grab a slice of pie, which was huge for anybody but especially a tiny oren girl , “Here you go Miss Kelly! It’s apple pie! It’s the bestest pie ever!”

The huge slice of pie had Magda giggle a bit, how could a girl that small think to get a slice that big? Or was it even big to her? Motiti did love her pie after all...

“Ah...Motiti,” Kelly pat Motiti’s head a few times, “Why don’t you get some pie for yourself?”

“Okay! Miss Kelly is the best!” Motiti ran off to the banquet table yet again.

“Magda...am I doing something wrong? Why isn’t anybody here?”

“Kelly, this is how it’s been for months, now even the 4 families can barely manage to get a tiny crowd at their biggest balls.”

“I can’t imagine that everybody would be so psyched out over a revolution that may not even be real!”

“It...it’s real Kelly. I know it is.”

Magda felt a chill going up her spine. She shivered despite the scorching temperatures in the greenhouse.

“How could you even know for sure? Oh..yeah...Alan forgot about him.”

Magda stood up from her chair suddenly, “Kelly, we need to go. Right now.”

“Miss Magda? You don’t seem so good.”

“Kelly, I’m sorry. I made a promise and I can’t break it. You’re either coming or not!”

“Magda I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to, Kelly. Please just get Motiti’s attention because we need to run. Now. ”

Magda took her heels off and rushed towards the entrance of the greenhouse. She’d be lucky if she managed to actually get out before…

It was too late. People surrounded the entrance to the greenhouse. All of them either smiling ,or just glaring at Magda. 

“W-what’s going on? P-please don’t hurt me! J-just let Kelly and Motiti go! Alright?”

No response.

Magda just looked forwards at the civilians, and they looked right back at her with no clear emotion. It was only when she looked behind herself and saw that Kelly and Motiti noticed the ruckus did the situation truly kick in.

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“So you came here because Magda hasn’t come back? Alan, don’t get desperate she runs off too!” Felicity said as she relaxed into her bed.

“Magda wouldn’t do that without telling me!” Alan almost cried to Felicity, “Please, Felicity. I can’t find her! She wasn’t at the greenhouse…”

“Maybe that’s why she ran off. You kinda sound uh….controlling.”

“W-what?” Alan paused and his heart sank, “Controlling?”

“How long have you made Magda constantly tell you where she is going?”

“W-well I never…”

“How long have you constantly checked her location?”

“ “I-I didn’t mean to be-”

Alan looked down at the ground and tried to hold back tears.

“Alan, Don’t be upset. I didn’t mean it like that. Girls just need to have girl time. Alone. With girls. Only girls.”

“B-but Magda-”

“I’m sure Magda’s girl time and my girl time are ...very different though, and trust me, Alan, she’ll come back. I know her, she’s my sister after all”

“So..she just needs some time alone?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ve done it so many times.”

“Ah! Thank you Miss Felicity! You’ve made me feel better!”

Felicity smiled as blondie left back to wherever he was off to. Felicity fell back onto her pillows softly.  She relaxed for quite a while before she heard a knock on her door.

“Miss Felicity? Have you heard the news?” A blonde maid entered her room.

“About what?”

“Two nobles and one oren went missing at the greenhouse yesterday!”

Felicity’s eyes widened, and her body felt like it was dropping 100 feet a second.

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“Help! Help us, please! We didn’t do anything wrong!” Kelly grasped at her cell bars, her cellmate, Motiti, was more preoccupied with the food she had managed to sneak away from the ball. The oren somehow managed to scarf down 3 pieces of pie in under an hour..who knows how much food she had hidden away.

Somebody did come down the old, destroyed hallway. It was a young-looking woman with dark eyes and pink hair that was braided down the front of her body in two separate tails. She smiled at the prisoners brightly.

“Ah…. well well...here we are! Two nobles, an oren, and a failed revolutionary!” The girl laughed, “I hope you all know what’s gonna happen. Me and my men are going to release the oren, kill you noble freaks and parade their heads around! As for you, Silver. You’re going to rot here.”

Every prisoner shut their mouths, and Kelly retreated to the back of her cell.

“To be fair this has been a long time coming. Dearest Magda….Kelly, you had more than enough time to run away in the greenhouse. Too bad about you Magda, we would have let you live. You should know the rules by now. No witnesses. This will be the biggest revolution in history! Actually...we have big~ plans for you Magda! We don’t want a scratch on that face of yours! Mmhmm!”

The girl smiled as she left the prisoners.

Kelly’s cries for help became more and more frequent, and louder. Magda could hear Kelly’s voice begin to give out, as her cries still kept their desperation but halted in the loudness.

“Hey, Blondie. Shut them up.” Magda’s silver-haired cellmate demanded her blue eyes pierced through Magda.

“Miss. I don’t think it’s gonna help us much.” Magda looked back at her. 

The short girl was curled into a ball with her knees tucked to her chest.

“Miss. What’s your name?”

“You don’t need to know, sweetheart. I already know you, you’re Magda Ellenstein.”

“Do you know why we’re here?”

“You’re a noble. That’s why.”

“Well, why are you here?”

“Betrayal at its highest degree. Can’t even trust your own...” 

“Do...you know anything about the revolution?”

“Do I!? Of course, I do!”

“I-I’m sorry if I offended you.”

“As much as I hate you nobility, you are polite…”

“Magda! Magda! Somebody's coming this way! Help us please!” Kelly screamed out for help. Magda didn’t bother getting up to see who it was.

Magda near-instantly knew who it was when she saw the long mane that was as orange as could be…

A/N: Sorry I couldn’t get a chapter out last week! Midterms and all suck. To make it up I’m gonna post another chapter later tonight or tomorrow! See you guys in a bit!

[langernameohnebedeutung]

(Nazi mention tw) Since you answered my question about Magneto’s accent before, I now ask: Does Magneto have citizenship in any nation? Fansites say he has German citizenship, which I don’t think is right—he would have had to actively reapply for citizenship after the defeat of the Nazis. I think Trial of Magneto mentions that he has no citizenship anywhere, though I’m not sure if that is legally true. I think at some point it’s definitively stated that he’s not an Israeli citizen either (1/2)

 (2/2) I presume he had Genoshan citizenship back when there was a Genoshan nation, and that he has Krakoan citizenship now. But other than those, has he been stated to have citizenship anywhere? Would he be likely to have any citizenship?

Uuh, that’s a really interesting question. I also kinda stumbled over his citizenship being stated as German in the wiki a few times, but personally I think they just put Germany in because he was born there. Plus listing all the countries he lived in at this point would be a lot of work lol.

On theother hand he is referred to as German occasionally – for example by Iron Manin Axis-

- but I think that’s just low-hanging fruit for a punchline (tony shut up challenge) and doesn’t really reflect anything. (Although I did check Not A Hero because I remembered we see a glimpse there of the exact description of Mags that Iron Man has in his computer system because I was curious about the nationality there but there is none given.)

But thereare various aspects to nationality – for one, where a person feels athome and how they identify. And especially for someone like Mags who doesn’t care much for laws in the first place, those are probably more important than any “legal” aspects. Personally, I think Mags is more defined by his history as an immigrant or refugee than by any national identity – and when he does exhibit any particular enthusiasm for any country, it’s usually countries with the idea of immigration as their defining traits. Genosha, Israel, America, Krakoa – and his disappointment when one of these countries doesn’t live up to the idea.

As for the legal aspect of things- which citizenship he holds – I personally think it’s very likely that he doesn’t have any ‘official’ citizenship at this point, because he would probably refuse to be defined by one slip of paper and on the other hand, I don’t think any nation is particularly eager to lay a claim to one of the most famous terrorists in the world.

Looking at what we know: Max was born in the Weimarer Republik, not so long before the NS-Regime came into power. According to Magneto: Testament, his father was Jewish and he fought in WW1. While antisemitism was rampant in the Weimarer Republik (obviously), Jewish people had the same legal rights as everyone else and at birth, he would have been considered German.

After the Nazis came into power, the first group of Jewish people which were stripped of their citizenship in 1933 were so-called “Ostjuden”, “East-Jews” from Eastern Europe who had been granted German citizenship after the end of WW1.

Later on, refugees were targeted. I work with Gestapo files for my job and we often encounter emigration files of Jewish people – I just held one in my hands the other day, and all legal formalities aside, the Gestapo straight up, more or less verbatim, writes in these files: “We have evidence that Jew XY (yeah, they put “Jew” in front of their names like that) has left the country. They can therefore be considered an emigrant. It is to be investigated whether they left wealth of more than 5000 RM in Germany.” 

If the person or family left behind wealth of more than 5000 RM, they were stripped of their citizenship and their possessions were put up for auction. Mind you, the official law that stripped Jewish people who “changed their usual place of residence” of their citizenship officially came into power on the 25.11.1941 - but the entries I found in the Gestapo and Sondergerichts files about the earlier-mentioned practices date back to…I think 1937 or 1938 (I still have one of the file numbers in my notebook I could even look it up), the major difference being the >5000 RM limit earlier. But as of the 18th of October 1941, Jewish people were officially forbidden from emigrating, because deportation was considered a more efficient way to access their money.

Obviously we can’t know how much money Max’ family had exactly (we know they’re middle class, his father being a civil servant and probably also receives some pensions as a veteran), but considering that physical property and real estate were also sold in these auctions and that they fled Germany in 1939, it’s not unlikely that according to NS-law, he was stripped of his German citizenship then already. If he didn’t, he must officially have lost in 1941 because he was nolonger living in Germany. As of 25.4.1943, all Jewish people and people considered “Half-Jews” as well as Romani people were ultimately stripped oftheir German citizenship. So he must have lost his German citizenship between 1939-1943, although I’d argue it’s more likely to have happened between 1939and 18th of October 1941. I think we could even narrow it down further, since they seemed to have barely arrived in Poland when his father’s friendtells them that the Germans invaded Poland, but honestly, that’s hardly therelevant point here.

Another important aspect is that the Nazis often “confiscated” the papers of the prisoners of their camps. After the war, many German Holocaust survivors who returned to “Germany” (or whatever else to call that entity until the foundingof East and West Germany), had a hard time proving that they were in fact German. While some were lucky and still had papers or there were enough people around their home towns who would admit they knew them, others had great problems getting their own property back or to get their compensation money or just their identity back. 

I work with an organisation that works with Holocaust survivors and one of them told us that when he returned, he almost didn’t get his home back (it had been turned into an NSDAP-house) and that the same mayor who had his parents and his siblings imprisoned to get his hands on said house was still in power. And would later become a member of the Bundestag, the German parliament.  Without a federal government in place and even the tribunals that were responsible for taking care of the victims of the fascist regime corroded by former Nazis and ideological infighting, the survivors were still facing discrimination. Especially since the rest of the population basically refused to address these issues. It’s also noteworthy that Romani people were still subject to a different legal status after the war and that explicit legal discrimination continued well into the 1990s and early 2000s. So for many reasons, getting your citizenship back wasn’t usually a walk in the park - especially if you have a Romani friend with you and escaped before the war even officially ended. It would have been risky as hell for them to go back home. And even if Germany had magically turned into a model democracy, it was still a place of horrible memories for both him and Magda and they had nothing there anymore and no one waiting for them.

So ok, what does that mean? We know Max and Magda escaped Auschwitz together and went to live in the Carpathians and eventually had Anya and Max/Erik got his first false identity. Which…is a thing he does a lot so the question is… whether that counts as an official citizenship? If yes, he had Ukrainian papers at some point. In the end, it’s a question of self-determination, really but the papers were still fake.

Then the unthinkable happened, Anya died, Magda ran and Max/Erik was on his own again and went to Israel as Erik Magnus. Now, it’s still another new name, but there’s nothing saying he didn’t adopt it in official papers and got anofficial citizenship. That would make him at this point either Israeli or Israeli-Ukrainian. I would actually argue the former is more likely, because he was working for the Mossad (which probably means he had real papers as an Israeli) and the CIA - which would probably have had a hard time trusting a Soviet.  

As for Genosha and Krakoa…I mean, you could definitely argue that he was automatically a citizen of Genosha because it was “his” country. The question is…would did he consider himself a “Genoshan”? because…personally I think the nature of the country as a home for mutants would have been much more relevant to him than any questions of national identity. Especially if you compare it with Krakoa, you notice the different treatment of concepts of language and culture in Krakoa – which has its own language and writing (which is imprinted in your brain CAN WE PLEASE REVISIT THAT?? I HAVE MANY THOUGHTS ON THIS) and generally seems to have a much stronger focus on the creation of a Krakoan identity. 

So where does that leave us? I don’t think he ever went to claim his German citizenship again. He legally could and even emigrated people who never returned again are usually considered German-(Whatever nationality they adopted)(but not just “German” like his Wiki entry does).  I assume he became Israeli at some point, especially since he worked for the Mossad (I don’t think they would have been very impressed with fake papers). I don’t think he ever said he was ‘Genoshan’ as an integral part of his cultural identity – I think it was first and foremost the community he was tied to, the people, the idea of his new Genosha, but honestly, I don’t know any textual evidence on that and there are many aspects from his rule over Genosha that I have a conflicted relationship with writing-wise. As I said, Krakoa is a different house number but again, I think even with its own language and everything, that Mags’ reasoning is less “I am Krakoan” and more “Mutants are Krakoan and I am a mutant.”

Generally, I don’t think Mags ever really thinks in terms of “national identity”. Being Jewish, being a mutant, being an immigrant, being a survivor, living the life he does, doing what he does – I think all those things rank much higher in his sense of self than national identity ever could - and even if it did, I don’t think he would care much about a ‘legal’ status anywhere. But I think it’s important to keep in mind that he grew up in a state that used national identity as a means of controlling and brainwashing its citizens – at the expense of people like him. Growing up, national identity was an exclusionary experience for him rather than an inclusive one - one that he never wanted to be part of. 

For him, discrimination was the key relationship he had with national identity and even after the war, he gets false papers and changes his name to be with the woman he loves. And later he changes his name again and goes to Israel and works in a hospital to help other survivors. Just like he didn’t have any problems becoming Charles’ cousin. He just moves on. He took over Genosha to help mutants and the same ambition brought him to Krakoa. And at the same time he’s always willing to change his location for the people he loves. So personally I think that these values rank much higher for him than national identity and generally, I think for him the communities he does consider himself part of are usually ones of shared experiences while for example while his time in Ukraine or Germany were defined by exclusion. For the same reason I think that for Mags, cultural transfer - of language, customs, food and other cultural aspects - would usually remind him of the people he lived with in the respective countries rather than an ambition to assimilate or be “(nation)-ian”. Especially since Mags isn’t the type to seek comfort in the collective.